


you’re the only thing that i love (it scares me more everyday)

by lostresidentevilpotter



Series: What If? [12]
Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:40:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 180,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24654736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostresidentevilpotter/pseuds/lostresidentevilpotter
Summary: Part of the reason Alicia stops killing walkers is to see if she’s actually capable of stopping. She didn’t realize this would mean being stuck with Al while she films their recruitment video.Or, Alicia finally becomes friends with Al, and then some, as the Pioneers establish themselves as a real threat. Canon to 5x09 but diverges from canon thereon.
Relationships: Alicia Clark & Luciana Galvez, Alicia Clark & Victor Strand, Alicia Clark & Wes, Alicia Clark/Jake Otto (mentioned), Alicia Clark/Wes, Althea & Alicia Clark, Althea & June (Fear the Walking Dead), Althea/Alicia Clark
Series: What If? [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1456003
Comments: 249
Kudos: 205





	1. we're gonna be there to film it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! I am back, and I'll be the first to admit that I don't know where this project is going, but I have a bad feeling it's going to be multiple chapters. It was supposed to be a quick oneshot but it got very out of hand, so I'm going with it. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> The work's title comes from Chocolate by Snow Patrol (I prefer the reworked version, but that's just me).

Word that Alicia’s not killing anything anymore goes around quickly. Granted, their group is fairly small, and Alicia’s new no-killing policy is something everyone needs to know about, but it serves as a nice reminder that nothing stays a secret for very long. Part of the reason Alicia stops killing walkers is to see if she’s actually capable of stopping, even if it makes their resupply missions that much more difficult. She didn’t realize this would mean being stuck with Al while she films their recruitment video. Alicia is minding her business, practicing Aikido, when Al first approaches her.

“Hey.”

Alicia pauses her movements and twists her head around to look over her shoulder as Al walks up. “Hey,” Alicia replies cautiously. “What’s up?”

“I need a hand,” Al says. The smile she flashes Alicia is gentle, maybe a little guarded. They don’t talk much, definitely not one-on-one, a fact that Alicia is now painfully aware of as they lapse into a mildly painful awkward silence. Al, Alicia notices right away, does not have her camera on her. Alicia also notices the pistol openly holstered at Al’s hip, and she can spot the other weapons Al’s carrying if she wants to, but there’s no need. Al’s here, armed more heavily than she would be if Alicia would carry a real weapon on her. She’s given the gun barrel to Strand for safe keeping and mostly just carries the staff Morgan fashioned her when she first took up Aikido. But she hasn’t killed anything with her staff and doesn’t imagine that she ever will.

“A hand?” Alicia questions. “With what?”

“It’s Morgan’s idea,” Al says, as if that itself will make Alicia more willing to help her out. “He wants to make…a video.”

“A video.”

Al nods, hooks her thumbs through the belt loops of her pants. “Yeah,” she says.

“What kind of video?”

Al shrugs. “A recruitment video,” she says. “He wants to have something for people to watch – something that tells them about who we are and why we’re out here, and all that shit. He wants to show them we’re serious about helping.”

Alicia blinks. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re on board with this?” Alicia asks.

Al hesitates. “Well…yeah. We’re trying to help people, but first you have to find the people to help? Or whatever. Look, we’re making a video, and I need an extra hand. Since you’re doing this no killing thing, I figured you’d be the best person to ask.”

Alicia presses the end of her staff into the dirt, leans into it. It’s not like she can really say no. Al has a valid point; it’s not like she has much else to do besides practice Aikido and make supply runs where she lets Strand and Luci do most of the dirty work. She really should help the group, and if this is what Morgan wants –

“Fine,” Alicia agrees. “What do you need me to do?”

Al smiles, and it comes across as more genuine this time. Maybe a little triumphant, too. Like she expected more resistance from Alicia. Maybe Al’s considering the lack of a proper argument over helping with the video as a win for today. “Right now I just need you to hold the camera,” Al says. “I’m going to film my contribution first.”

“And then what?”

Al exhales. “Well, then we start talking to the others. I think some people will be easier to talk to than others.”

“Like who?”

Al grins. “Now you’re eager. Let’s start with me, and we’ll go from there, okay?”

*

Alicia sits five feet away like she’s told, holds the camera like she’s told, and reads the questions Al prepared off dirt-smeared index cards like she’s told. Al does all the rest. Alicia half listens, just so she knows when to read the next question, but Al seems to have thought about what she wants to say. And Alicia has no reason to care about Al’s answers. Only one thing Al says sticks with Alicia after the interview ends. The part about how she misses going to a bar at the end of a long day. It’s not something Alicia herself can miss, obviously, but the sentiment behind that statement –

“Thanks,” Al says. She takes the camera from Alicia’s hands but shakes her head when Alicia holds up the index cards. “Pitch those,” Al instructs. Alicia nods and watches Al walk back to the van to safely stash the camera and the tape. Alicia almost throws the index cards off to the side, like she’s been told, but something compels her to tuck them into the back pocket of her jeans instead. When she pulls them out later while she’s alone in her truck, she doesn’t know why she didn’t just toss them. They’re just generic questions, written in Al’s neat uppercase handwriting. Useless, dirt-smeared pieces of paper with black ink on them.

An incessant knocking on the window rouses Alicia too early the next morning, and she unintentionally sends Al the dirtiest look possible when she first sees her. It’s too early, and Alicia says as much as she pops the door open.

“Yeah, well, we gotta get a move on,” Al replies. “These interviews aren’t going to finish themselves. Collecting interviews is just the first step. I’ll have to put them together, make copies, distribute them. So yeah, it’s early, but let’s go. You said you’d help.”

Alicia groans. “I need to get ready.”

Al smiles, looks way too cheery for this early in the morning. “Ten minutes. And stop acting like you won’t have time to take a solid nap later.”

Good point. Alicia won’t admit that Al’s right out loud, but she does send Al a smirk before she pulls her shirt over her head and searches for a new one. She takes her time changing and brushing her teeth, spits her mouthful of toothpaste onto the cement and puts her toothbrush back in her truck. She ties her hair up then finds Al at the SWAT van, ready with the camera and a fresh tape.

“Who’s first?” Alicia yawns. Instead of getting an answer, Al pushes a bottle of water into her hand.

“It’s going to be a hot one,” Al says. “Stay hydrated, but more importantly, _wake up_. C’mon, if you yawn while someone’s telling their story, it’ll discourage them. And you should probably eat something.”

Alicia rolls her eyes. “Worry about yourself. I won’t yawn anymore. Jesus.”

“Luci’s first.”

Alicia nods and motions for Al to lead the way. Alicia cracks open the bottle of water on the walk over, splashes a little on her face. It’s already a hot day, and maybe it’ll help her wake up. Luci is too enthusiastic to be sleepy around, though, and she’s more than happy to talk about what she has experienced and why she wants to help. Alicia doesn’t know why she’s there, because Al holds the camera and prompts Luci when necessary. Alicia just kind of hangs out behind the camera with Al. But after the interview ends, Al treats Alicia as if she’s a vital part of making this video – which is more of a documentary, Alicia comes to realize, than it is a simple video – even though Alicia feels as if she hasn’t really done anything.

*

The video – documentary – gets long, fast. Almost everyone is willing to talk about something, and they go _on and on and on_. Sarah only stops because Al clears her throat and says she thinks they’ve got what they need.

“It’s missing something,” Al says. They’re in the back of the van, reviewing the interviews they have so far, even as the sun begins to set.

“Like what?” Alicia asks. To her own surprise, she’s actually curious. Al may have been a journalist in her old life, but she has a wide range of interests – film being just one – and Alicia has learned a lot from her in the last few days. Maybe Al could’ve been a director in another life. But Alicia doesn’t like to think about other lives much. It inevitably leads to her thinking about her possible other lives, including one at Berkeley, including one where she got married and had a family of her own – maybe even a family more functional than hers was.

“It’s just a collection of interviews,” Al says. “But we could all be lying, right?”

“We could, but why go through all this trouble just to tell lies?” Alicia asks.

“To lure people in and prey on them? If I was a survivor out there on my own, that’s the first thing I would think after watching a collection of interviews of a random group of people claiming they want to help.”

Alicia hums. “True. Okay, so what’s it missing?”

“Something _real_. It’s – it’s missing footage of us in action.”

Alicia busts out laughing. “In _action_? Doing what? Going on supply runs?”

Al snaps her fingers and points at Alicia. “There’s an idea.”

“Okay, so film us going on a supply run,” Alicia suggests. “What else could it be missing?”

“Us actually helping someone outside of our group?”

Alicia frowns. Al wants footage of them _in action_ , footage of them helping someone. Duh. She wants to film their everyday lives, prove to their audience that they’re legit. She wants more than just their people claiming they help. “How are we going to do this?” Alicia asks.

“Someone will reach out to us eventually,” Al says, but she doesn’t sound very convincing.

“Right. Because we’ve just had people knocking down our doors asking for help,” Alicia says. She barely resists the urge to roll her eyes.

“When someone _does_ need our help, we’re gonna be there to film it,” Al insists. She slaps the side of Alicia’s knee and smiles, pushes her hair out of her eyes. Al shuts the camera off and gathers all the tapes up. She has a strange, meticulous organization system that Alicia doesn’t try to understand or interfere with. She lets Al handle the camera and the tapes, and she does as she’s told. “Shit, the sun’s already down?” Al says, peering out the window. “I didn’t realize it was so late.”

“We missed dinner for sure,” Alicia says.

“I’ve got food,” Al dismisses. “You want to eat?”

Alicia shakes her head. “I’m fine. I should go get some sleep. We’ve got an early morning.”

“You need to eat. C’mon. Stay,” Al says. Alicia sighs but sits back down. Al smiles. They eat dinner sitting on opposite sides of the van, not talking. Alicia’s perfectly content with the silence. She should be happy that Al wants footage of their day-to-day operations, of them “in action,” helping people. She should be happy Al hasn’t asked her to give an interview yet. But, as much as she’s happy she doesn’t have to talk, she’s also confused as to why Al hasn’t brought it up yet.

*

It’s dark when Alicia leaves the van. Actually dark. Alicia steps off the last step of the van and realizes she has no idea which direction her truck is in. It’s that kind of dark. Even with a caravan beginning to form, it’s pitch black. There’s no source of light from any vehicle, except the very dim light of the van from behind Alicia.

“Hey, hold up,” Al calls right after Alicia’s feet hit the cement. “It’s dark.” Before Alicia can make a smartass comment, a beam of light lands at her feet. “Let me walk you back,” Al offers.

Alicia balks but manages to say, “Thanks.” In the light provided by Al’s flashlight, Alicia sees her smile. Al leads the way, sticking by Alicia’s side, all the way to Alicia’s truck. “You didn’t have to do that,” Alicia says.

“I didn’t have to, but I’m a nice person, Alicia,” Al replies. She even opens the truck’s door for Alicia, smiling wider. “At least, I try to be. Most of the time.”

Alicia nods, unsure of what to say besides, “See you in the morning.”

“Goodnight.”

Alicia pulls the door of the truck shut but finds herself watching Al and the beam of light heading back for the van. She shakes her head to herself, swallows hard, and tells herself to stay focused.

She doesn’t sleep well.

*

Having Al follow Alicia on a supply run is oddly…nerve-wracking. Alicia chalks it up to having an audience, even though Strand and Luci seem unbothered by Al or by the camera that’s stalking them. Nothing goes wrong for once, and Alicia spends most of her time loading up supplies after Luci and Strand kill every walker in the area. Al doesn’t speak at all the entire run, just films them with an intense look of concentration on her face.

“We’re all good here,” Alicia announces. “Let’s head out.”

Strand gets behind the wheel, and Luci snags the passenger’s seat before Alicia can get there, leaving her stuck in the backseat of the truck with Al. Al, thankfully, shuts the camera off on their ride back to their camp.

“Exciting enough for you?” Alicia asks.

Al laughs. “It doesn’t have to be exciting. We’re just trying to show people how things are done here.”

Alicia rolls her eyes. “Maybe you should be shadowing Morgan.”

Al shakes her head. “I’ve been trying to get him to talk about something real. Shadowing him will probably make him less likely to…speak from the heart.”

Alicia and Strand both laugh, but it’s Luci who asks, “What won’t he talk about?”

“His family,” Al answers. The laughter stops. “Kind of a sore subject for him.”

“Then leave him be,” Strand suggests. “We’re all allowed some privacy.”

“But the answers he gives about why he wants to help people seem so fake,” Al argues. “He’s purposefully not talking about his family, and it comes across as if he’s hiding something. Because he is.”

“Well, I can’t blame him for not wanting to talk about his family,” Alicia mutters.

“Why?” Al asks. “You aren’t willing to talk about yours?”

Alicia hesitates. “You haven’t asked me to.”

“But if I did.”

Their eyes lock. “What if my family has nothing to do with the reason why I want to help people?” Alicia questions. Strand snorts but tries to pass it off as a cough.

Al smiles. “You better be really convincing when we film your interview then.”

*

The rest of the ride back occurs in silence. Alicia expects to be interviewed once they’re settled, but Al doesn’t raise the issue. They eat dinner as a group, and Alicia accompanies Al back to the van afterwards to sift through their new footage. They both sit on the floor of the van, Alicia leaning back against the seats behind her. All she really does is watch Al review footage, but she does scribble notes for Al in one of her notebooks when Al tells her to write something down.

“So, when _are_ you going to interview me?” Alicia asks when she can’t take not knowing anymore.

“We have plenty of time for that,” Al dismisses. She doesn’t even look up from the collection of tapes she’s sorting through.

“We already filmed your interview,” Alicia replies. She grabs onto Al’s wrist, stops her from rummaging through tapes. Al looks up, eyebrows raised. “Why shouldn’t we film mine?”

“I hate being in front of the camera,” Al says nonchalantly. “And I didn’t want to scare you off before we got all our footage, so I figured I’d wait until the end to ask you.”

Alicia nods and releases Al’s wrist. “Fine,” she mutters. “I guess that makes sense.”

“And you don’t have to talk about your family if you don’t want to,” Al says softly. “I know that’s still…fresh.”

Alicia winces, avoids making eye contact. “We’ll see,” she says. “I don’t know what I want to say yet.”

She can feel Al’s eyes on the side of her face, but she stares straight ahead, refusing to look at her. “That’s alright,” Al says. “Give it some thought.”

Alicia nods. She hesitates, but she forces herself to ask, “What if I don’t know why I want to help people? I can’t just say _I don’t know_. That won’t go over well with our audience.”

Al sets the camera aside and pushes the tapes out of the way so she can sit cross-legged facing Alicia. “Are you asking me for ideas?” Al asks. Her tone borders on teasing, but Alicia shrugs.

“I’m just not sure what to say. Everyone we’ve talked to has given good reasons, but when I think about it, I keep coming up empty.”

“Well, why did you decide to stop killing walkers?” Al asks. For a moment, Alicia thinks she’s being mocked, but when they lock eyes, she realizes it’s a genuine question. And she also realizes that no one else in their group has bothered to ask her why. They all just accepted her new policy.

“It’s a bad reason,” Alicia admits. “A couple bad reasons, maybe.”

“Well, what are they?” Al asks. Alicia’s eyes flick toward the camera, but Al makes no move to pick it up. It’s just a conversation between two…friends? Are they friends?

“I wanted to see if I was capable of stopping,” Alicia says quietly. “All I’ve done the past couple years is kill. I think – I need to find some other reason to keep going besides trying to wipe out every walker on the planet, you know?”

Al nods, but confusion brims in her eyes. “Is that all?”

Alicia pauses, really thinks it over. “I’m good at killing walkers,” she says. “Really good.”

“I know.”

“So it’s actually pretty stupid that I’ve stopped,” Alicia says. “It’s bad for the group. But back at the kids’ treehouse – when I got that radiated walker blood in my mouth…” Alicia stops, shakes her head, and exhales heavily. “It felt like a death sentence. I didn’t want to feel that again.”

“I don’t think that’s a bad reason.”

“It’s not a great one. It’s selfish at the very least.”

Alicia glances over at Al in time to see the small smirk on her face. “I think we all need to be selfish once in a while.” Al pushes herself to her feet and goes to her safe. She comes back with a full bottle of scotch in her hand and a grin on her face. She cracks the bottle open and takes a swig. She swallows then offers, “I can get you a glass, if you’d like. I think there’s one around here somewhere.”

“Fuck that,” Alicia scoffs. She reaches up, wiggling her fingers. “Give me that.”

Al laughs and hands the bottle over, taking a seat right next to Alicia. They both lean back against the seats behind them, Al’s arm pressing against Alicia’s. It’s already cramped in the aisle, even when they sit facing each other, and Alicia fidgets and drinks more scotch.

“How much more footage do you think we’ll need?” Alicia asks when the silence starts to become too drawn out.

“I want at least one example of us helping someone,” Al says. She lists them all off on her fingers. “I want Morgan to tell me about his family. We need your interview, obviously, but we’ve gotten everyone else apart from Morgan. I want a little bit more footage of our daily operations, but I can get that anytime. But that’s really it.” Al takes the scotch from Alicia and drinks more herself, exhaling contentedly. She hands the bottle back. “Then I just have to put it all together, you know?”

“Right.”

“Why?” Al questions. “You think we’re missing something?”

“No,” Alicia says. “Just curious.”

“We could get some footage of you and Morgan practicing Aikido.”

Alicia laughs. “No. Hell no. Do not – just don’t.”

Al holds her hands up in surrender and grins crookedly. “Fine, fine,” Al says.

“I’m already in other footage,” Alicia points out. “The supply run? Film Charlie or Sarah and Wendell or John and June. Anyone but me.”

Al shrugs. “Charlie’s a kid, Sarah and Wendell swear and drink too much, and John and June always do their gross couple thing, camera or no camera. But you –”

“What about me?” Alicia teases.

“You’re…focused.”

Alicia laughs. “Right. Sure I am.”

“And you’re young,” Al continues. “Smart. Pretty. Gotta show the world we have high quality people in our group,” Al jokes.

Alicia snorts. She takes another drink from the bottle of scotch before Al snatches the bottle away from her. Alicia’s starting to feel pleasantly lightheaded. “So you think I’m pretty?” she says.

Al laughs. “Of _course_ that’s what you took away from that.”

“Hey, you said it,” Alicia replies. Al smiles, sips more scotch, then sets the bottle on the seats behind them. They hold eye contact as the silence drags. Alicia keeps waiting for Al to say something, but Al just keeps smiling. A smile flickers on Alicia’s face, and she finally decides to break the silence herself. “My back is killing me.”

“Yeah, mine too,” Al agrees.

“I would kill for a massage,” Alicia says. “You know. If I was still killing.”

Al laughs. “Yeah, I’m afraid all the licensed massage therapists are probably dead.”

Alicia groans. “I’m too young for back problems.”

“And I thought I was too young for gray hairs, but here we are,” Al replies.

“We could probably find some hair dye,” Alicia chuckles. “I don’t think hair dye was a high priority when people initially raided all the stores.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Al says, but she can’t suppress her smile. She runs her hand through her hair, pushes it back from her forehead. “It’s just a few gray hairs.”

“Give it some time,” Alicia says. “There’ll be more.”

“You’re a jerk.”

Alicia laughs – actually, the sound is closer to an undignified giggle, which prompts Al to laugh, too. “It’s getting late,” Alicia says when she pulls herself together. “I should probably go to my truck. Get some sleep. You know, so I can follow you around all day tomorrow.”

Al nods then motions toward the back of the van. “C’mon. I’ll walk you back.”

Al gets to her feet and offers Alicia a hand. Alicia stares at it for a long moment then decides to take it and let Al haul her up. Good thing, too, because once Alicia’s on her feet, she immediately starts swaying. Her head spins, and she tightens her grip on Al’s hand rather than letting go.

“You alright?” Al asks. An amused smile crosses her face, and she grasps onto Alicia’s shoulder with the hand not trapped in Alicia’s death grip.

“Dizzy,” Alicia mutters. “It’ll pass.”

“It’s all that scotch,” Al says. “You drank too much too fast.” Al pries Alicia’s hand off of hers and offers Alicia her arm instead. “Hold onto my arm. I’ll get you back safely.”

Alicia bites back a smartass comment and links her arm through Al’s. Al leads them down the steps, and Alicia can’t help herself. She blurts out, “You’re treating me like I’m a little old lady crossing the street.”

Al stifles her laughter, mostly out of an abundance of caution. Walkers occasionally wander into their campsite, and the sun is in the process of setting. Alicia stares out at the horizon, thinks it looks like the sky’s bleeding, all that red and orange.

“I don’t think you can walk on your own, Alicia,” Al teases. “You always park your truck pretty far away from my van.”

“I just go where I’m told,” Alicia argues. “Morgan points, and I park.”

Al hums. “Sure,” she says.

“It’s true! Fine, I’ll park closer next time we move to a new campsite.”

“I’m messing with you, Alicia.”

“You’re – oh.”

They reach the truck, and Alicia fumbles to get her keys out of the pocket of her jeans. She continues holding onto Al’s arm, afraid she’s going to lose her balance and knock her teeth out on the pavement. She finally gets her keys free, but she struggles to get the key in the lock. After at least ten tries, Al holds her free hand out, and Alicia slaps her keys into Al’s hand and allows Al to unlock the door. Al hands her keys back and smiles.

“You don’t need me to help you into the truck, do you?” Al asks softly. There’s no reason for Alicia to think she’s being mocked, but she’s still surprised Al offered.

“No,” Alicia says indignantly. She sighs. “But thanks for walking me. Again.”

Al winks. “Anytime. See you in the morning.”

Alicia gets herself into the truck and turns back in time to watch Al walking back toward the van. She makes a stop at John and June’s truck, leaning down to converse with June through the open window. Alicia watches them laugh together but looks away when memories of her friends from the past threaten to overwhelm her. She forces herself to settle in for the night.

*

Alicia sleeps like the dead in the back of her truck. It’s past noon when a knock on her window finally wakes her. She winces as she sits up, cradling her head in her hands as pain shoots through it. Just a little too much scotch after not drinking any alcohol for God knows how long.

“Hold on!” Alicia shouts. She drags herself into the front of the truck and unlocks the doors, pops it open. She squints against the onslaught of sunlight as she pokes her head out. “What?” she grumbles.

“Well, good afternoon to you, too,” Al says cheerily. Alicia looks her over. She’s in a plain black T-shirt, has her hands jammed into her pockets. Her hair’s windswept. She’s got a broad smile on her face, no camera in her hands. Pistol at one hip, trench spike at the other.

“Where’s the camera?” Alicia asks dumbly.

“In my van,” Al answers. “How’re you feeling?”

“Fuck you,” Alicia mutters.

Al laughs. “Maybe later. I’ve got a full schedule.”

Alicia splutters for a moment but has nothing to say to that. “What’d you wake me up for then?”

“Found something,” Al says. “Thought you’d want to see it.”

“That’s…incredibly ominous.”

“Get up,” Al says. “Maybe brush your teeth. Oh, and take these.” She pulls a small bottle out of her pocket and tosses it to Alicia. Alicia fumbles to catch the bottle of ibuprofen. “And drink some water,” Al suggests. “I’ll be waiting by the van.”

Alicia meets Al at the van ten minutes later. She’s taken ibuprofen with an entire bottle of water in hopes it’ll get rid of her headache, and she’s brushed her teeth. She’s even changed her clothes. “What’s so interesting that I have to see it?” Alicia asks as she walks up.

“It’s just up the road,” Al informs. “Morgan found it on his morning walk.”

“And you’re not gonna film it?”

Al laughs. “Alicia, I’ve been up for hours. I’ve already got footage.”

They walk up the road. Alicia’s headache isn’t totally gone, so she stays quiet, wishing she’d grabbed a pair of sunglasses. Al stops walking abruptly, and Alicia nearly runs into her. Before Alicia can complain, her eyes land on the tree. Her eyebrows pull together as she reads the words paints on it.

_If you’re reading this, you’re still here_

There’s more to the painting, but Alicia can’t look past the words. “Who – who painted that?” she manages to ask.

“We don’t know,” Al answers. “Everyone at camp denied doing it.”

“So there’s someone in the area?” Alicia questions.

“Most likely. Morgan said it appeared overnight.”

Alicia shakes her head, but she can’t take her eyes off the painting. “Someone was close to our camp. Kinda creepy.”

“But all they did was paint a tree,” Al points out.

Alicia hums in agreement. “I guess they could’ve massacred us while we slept or something, right?”

“That’s dark.”

Alicia laughs. “Sorry.”

A twig snaps behind them, and they both whip around. The walker stumbles onto the road, arms outstretched. Al hesitates, looks to Alicia before remembering she’s completely unarmed. Al pulls the trench spike from her hip and kills the walker in the middle of the road. Al wipes her spike off on the walker’s shirt then drags its body off the road.

“Let’s head back,” Al says. “There could be more.”

Alicia nods, swallows hard. “Thanks for, um, killing that.”

“Of course. C’mon.”

*

The next morning, Alicia catches Al filming her and Morgan during their Aikido session. Alicia halts her movements, glares across the field at Al.

“I thought I told you not to film us,” Alicia calls.

“Obviously I didn’t listen,” Al replies.

“Obviously.”

“What’s wrong?” Morgan questions.

“Don’t worry about it,” Alicia tells him. “I’ve gotta go.”

She leaves Morgan behind, jogging over to where Al’s filming from. Al lowers the camera as Alicia gets close. Al stands almost defensively, like she thinks Alicia’s going to try to destroy her camera or otherwise attack her. Before Al can say anything, Alicia grabs her by the arm and starts walking.

“Where are we going?” Al asks.

“We’re going to film my interview now,” Alicia decides. She motions up the road. “By that tree.”

*

Alicia sits in front of the painted tree and stares anywhere but at the camera at first. She’s spent weeks thinking about what she wants to say. She wishes she’d written something down so she’d at least have _something_ to go on. She thinks about her family, her friends, everything that’s happened since the beginning –

“You know, on second thought, forget it,” Alicia says. “I don’t know what to say.”

Al doesn’t lower the camera and instead prompts, “What’re you thinking about?”

“This stupid tree,” Alicia answers immediately.

“Why?”

“Someone outside of our group painted it,” Alicia says. “If they knew we were close by, they didn’t try to interact with us. They just…painted this tree and left. And what’s the point?”

“Spreading positivity?”

Alicia laughs, then her teeth sink into her lower lip as she thinks. “Maybe,” she concedes. “A painting like this takes time. Time that could’ve been spent doing something more productive.”

“Like what?”

Alicia shrugs. “Looking for supplies?”

“But in a way, don’t you think that painting could help someone?”

“Probably.”

Al nods from behind the camera. “That’s all you’ve got to say?”

Alicia inhales deeply. “I think my mother would’ve liked the painting. She tried to build a community. Died protecting me when it fell. She wanted a better life for her kids.” Alicia pauses, stares at the trees behind Al and the camera, and tries to keep her voice steady. “I want a better life for myself.”

“Is that why you’ve stopped killing walkers?”

Alicia’s eyes lock onto the camera. She remembers what she’d told Al before, when there was no camera. She could repeat it, but the words die in her throat. “Yeah,” Alicia answers after a moment of hesitation. “I’ve stopped for now,” she continues. “I doubt I’ll be able to stop forever.”

“Would you if you could?”

Alicia smiles wistfully. “I don’t know.”

*

Alicia doubts there’s anything salvageable from her interview with Al. She probably should’ve waited until she’d forced something meaningful from her brain and written it down rather than rambling or waiting for Al to ask her a question. She doesn’t spend that night in the van reviewing tapes with Al. She returns to her truck, sheds her jacket and pants, and commits to falling asleep before the sun goes down. She’s stretched out across the backseat, one arm flung over her eyes, and that’s how she wakes up early the next morning when there’s a relentless knock on the window.

“Go away!” she shouts.

“There’s a call!” Al yells back. “Someone needs help!”

Alicia bolts upright. “Right now?”

“Morgan’s on the radio with them! We’ve got to be ready to go!”

“I’ll be there!” Alicia replies. “I just have to put pants on.”

When Alicia stumbles out of the van, just buttoning her jeans, Al says, “I didn’t need to know that part.”

“Oh, shut up,” Alicia says, flashing Al a quick smile. “What’s going on?”

“It’s a woman whose husband went out to get an inhaler for their son. The husband hasn’t come back, and there are walkers getting near the property.”

“She heard our calls on the radio?” Alicia questions.

“Yeah,” Al confirms.

“This doesn’t sound too difficult,” Alicia muses.

“Don’t speak so soon.”

*

She shouldn’t have spoken so soon. The woman’s name is Tess. She refuses to leave her house. The property is scattered with landmines. Alicia and Strand find the husband is already a walker, and Alicia can’t kill him. It’s not that she doesn’t want to. She feels like she has to – she does have to, if she wants to save her own life, and she does want to keep living – and that’s why she can’t. Her mind flashes back to the radiated walker blood splattering against her face, to the taste of its blood in her mouth. And while she panics, this walker almost gets her, until Strand steps in. She walks away feeling shaky. At least they get the inhaler for the kid.

Alicia reaches the house just as Morgan steps on a landmine. And Al is right behind him as he tries to disarm it, still filming. Luci’s farther away, pointing a camera at Al and Morgan, at the landmine that could easily explode and send chunks of Morgan and Al flying. Alicia is used to danger, but this – all over a _stranger_ who won’t even step out onto the porch – is too much.

It isn’t until later, after the whole ordeal is over, while Al is bragging about all the amazing footage they got, that Alicia realizes she wasn’t worried about Morgan’s safety. She was worried about Al’s.

“So you’ve got everything then?” Alicia asks carefully. “We’re done filming?”

Al nods, taking a celebratory drink out of the bottle of scotch left over from before. They’re seated in their usual spots on the floor of the van, surrounded by tapes, and Alicia shakes her head when Al offers her the bottle. “I just have to put everything together,” Al says. “Since Morgan finally talked about his family, thanks to that landmine putting things into perspective for him.”

“How long do you think that’ll take?” Alicia asks. “To totally finish it?”

“A week at the most,” Al dismisses. “I’ve got most of my notes in order, thanks to you. And I think we’ve waited long enough to get the video out, so I’ll put it together as fast as I can and we can start distributing them where people can see it.”

“That’s great,” Alicia says faintly.

Al hums. “Is it?”

Alicia startles. “What?” she says. She meets Al’s gaze, and Al smiles gently, eyebrows raising.

“Is it great?” Al asks. “Because your tone suggests otherwise.”

“My tone doesn’t suggest anything,” Alicia replies. “Yeah, it’s…I mean, it’s whatever.”

“That sounds more like you.”

“Shut up,” Alicia snorts. “It’s just –” She hesitates, but Al motions for her to continue. “Morgan stepped on a landmine for a woman who wouldn’t step out onto her porch to retrieve an inhaler for her son. And now they’re part of our group.”

Al blinks. “And?”

“And you both could’ve died!” Alicia blurts. “And for what?”

“We saved Tess and her son.”

“But if the landmine had exploded. Would it have been worth it? Trading you and Morgan for Tess and her son? Your deaths would destroy our entire group.”

Al drinks from the bottle of scotch again. “But we didn’t die.”

“But if you had.”

“But we didn’t.”

Alicia sighs. “Everything would’ve fallen apart if you’d blown up on Tess’s lawn.”

“Yeah,” Al concedes. “It would’ve.” She grins. “Good thing we didn’t blow up then.”

Alicia rolls her eyes. “It doesn’t bother you, even a little bit? You could’ve died.”

“Not the first time,” Al says. “Won’t be the last.” When a sour look crosses Alicia’s face, Al says, “Look, Alicia, I’ve been doing this shit for a long time. Even before the dead started eating people’s faces. I’m not concerned. I’ll die when it’s my time.”

Alicia inhales, leans back against the seats. “You religious?” she asks.

Al busts out laughing. “No,” she answers. “Why?”

Alicia shrugs. “Just curious.”

“All of the sudden? Just out of nowhere?”

“Maybe.”

“Because I think I’ll die when it’s my time to die?”

Alicia shrugs again. “Just making conversation.”

“Liar.”

“Well, something is up, because you’re finally answering questions,” Alicia points out. “Normally you ask them and deflect any question that comes your way.”

Al shrugs this time, drinks more scotch. “I talk about myself sometimes.”

“Hardly ever.”

Al smiles crookedly, holds the bottle out to Alicia again. This time, Alicia takes it. “I talk to my friends,” Al says.

Alicia’s eyebrows shoot up. “So we weren’t friends before?”

“You barely talked to me before,” Al says. Alicia flinches in spite of the playful tone of Al’s voice. “I didn’t have a reason to tell you anything about myself.”

“But we’re friends now,” Alicia says quietly. She drinks just a little scotch then sets the bottle aside. She doesn’t want another hangover.

“We made a mini documentary together,” Al says. “You should be proud. So yeah, what the hell? Friends.”

Alicia smiles. “We lived in that factory together for months, and we’re only now sort of getting to know each other.”

“No better time than the present,” Al replies. “Right?”

“Unless you step on a landmine and blow up.”

Al laughs and brushes her bangs out of her eyes. “You’re not going to let that one go, are you?”

“Not anytime soon. Since we’re friends now, I get to be at least a little concerned about your safety.”

“Don’t waste your energy,” Al says. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know,” Alicia defends. “We all know. Actually, it’s kind of strange that you want to help people when you don’t let anyone help you.”

“Fuck off,” Al laughs, but her voice lacks conviction. “I don’t need help.”

“We all need help sometimes.”

“Even you?”

Alicia pauses. “Tess’s husband. He was a walker, and he was going to kill me, but I couldn’t kill him. I mean, physically I could, but mentally…I don’t know. Strand had to step in and save my ass.”

“No shame.”

“A lot of shame,” Alicia retorts. “That thing could’ve fucking killed me, and I couldn’t get past this mental block I put up for myself.” She shakes her head. “Not killing walkers…it’s kind of self-righteous, isn’t it?”

“Maybe.”

“It’s at least stupid, right?” Alicia asks. When Al doesn’t answer, doesn’t even react, Alicia presses, “Oh, come on. We’re friends now.” Alicia reaches over and hits the back of her hand against the side of Al’s knee. “Give me your honest opinion.”

“Honest opinion?”

“Yeah.”

“I won’t say it’s stupid,” Al says. “I don’t think you’re stupid. Quite the opposite, really, given everything I’ve seen since we first met. But I do think it’s dangerous. I think you proved that today, right? Even though Strand had your back, if he couldn’t have gotten there in time…” Al trails off. “Sometimes you have to watch your own back.”

Alicia exhales, gives a slight raise of an eyebrow that might count as agreement. She gets to her feet. It’s already dark. She has a bad habit of losing track of time around Al. “I should go,” she says. “It’s late.”

“You know,” Al says, leaning over to snag the bottle of scotch back from where Alicia had set it aside. “You could stay.”

Alicia pauses in front of the back doors, turns back. “Stay? As in…?”

“As in stay,” Al says.

“To do more work?” Alicia asks dubiously. “Because no offense, but I’d rather –”

“Stay as in don’t feel like you have to leave just because we’re obviously done working for today,” Al cuts in. “We’re friends, right?”

“I mean, we’ve said that.”

Al grins. “But you’re not sure?”

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

Al laughs. “Please. Like you give a shit. C’mon. Sit back down. Have a drink. Or don’t.”

“It’s dark.”

“If that’s the reason you’re leaving, don’t worry about it. I’ll walk you back. I have a flashlight.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

Al laughs. “It’s a two minute walk, Alicia. I’m armed. I’m not worried. The walk to your truck is certainly no _running after your friend when he steps on a landmine_.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Alicia mutters. “What the hell? Give me the scotch.”

“Now it’s a party.”

Alicia laughs. “Hardly. I don’t think two people counts as a party.”

“We should invite June next time.”

“Nah,” Alicia says. She makes herself at home, lounging across the seats on the opposite side of the aisle as Al. She cradles the bottle of scotch against her chest and adds, “She’ll bring John, and they’ll be all over each other.”

Al laughs. “Jealous?”

Alicia scoffs. “No. It’s just annoying.”

“Doesn’t bother me.”

“Nothing bothers you,” Alicia laughs. “Morgan steps on a fuckin’ landmine, and that didn’t bother you. You ran right up there to join him.”

“I’d do the same if it’d been you stepping on a landmine,” Al replies.

“Aw, really? Before we were even friends?” Alicia says mockingly. “You’re sweet.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

They both laugh, and Alicia drinks then hands the bottle down to Al. Al shows no intention of moving from her spot on the floor, just leans forward to take the bottle. Their eyes meet, and Al’s lips curve into a small smile before she finishes off the bottle.

“That last bit was probably mostly our backwash,” Alicia says.

“Whatever,” Al says nonchalantly. She caps the empty bottle and stores it away. Before Alicia can ask, Al says, “Maybe I’ll figure out a way to get a little ship in there. Or smash it over the head of a walker sometime. Who knows?”

“Definitely smash it,” Alicia says. “Probably not an effective way to kill a walker, though.”

“Have you tried it?”

“Of course not.”

“Weirdest thing you’ve killed a walker with,” Al says, snapping her fingers. “Go.”

“Um,” Alicia says, drawing the sound out as she thinks. “I don’t know. What do you think is weird?”

“I killed a walker with an action figure once,” Al says.

“What?” Alicia laughs.

“Yeah. I was raiding a house for supplies, found a walker in the closet of a kid’s bedroom and picked up an action figure.” Al mimes the action as she says, “Right through the eye socket. Didn’t think it would work, but it did the job.”

“What happened to the kid?”

“No idea,” Al says. “But there was only one walker in the whole house, so hopefully the kid escaped with someone. But we all like to think the best, right?”

“Yeah,” Alicia says. “The kid’s probably dead.”

“Probably,” Al agrees. “But maybe not. Stranger things have happened. I mean, we’re both still here. And we should both definitely be dead. I know I’ve had too many close calls.”

“Add landmine to that list of close calls, right?”

“You won’t let the goddamn landmine go,” Al laughs. “We weren’t even officially friends yet when that happened.”

“That was this morning!”

“And we just agreed we’re friends, like, ten minutes ago. Landmine happened first.”

“No one warned me that you have a terrible sense of humor,” Alicia says.

“Maybe you would’ve figured that out sooner if we’d had an actual conversation before we started making the video.”

“Ouch,” Alicia says, grinning. “No hard feelings?”

Al waves her hand. “Nah, not at all. Better late than never.”

“Might’ve been too late –”

“If the landmine had exploded, yes,” Al interrupts. “I know! God, I’ll never live it down. At least I wasn’t the one to step on it.”

“You’d really never hear the end of it.”

*

Alicia wakes up, and the first thing she thinks is _I don’t remember Al walking me back to my truck_. And then she realizes she isn’t in her truck. She lifts her head, wonders why her back hurts, and spots Al asleep across the aisle. Al’s arm hangs off the edge of the seats, the back of her fingers pressed against the floor. Alicia tries to remember deciding to stay, but she can’t. In fact, she thinks she just fell asleep. Since when is she comfortable enough to sleep in a vehicle that’s not hers when she isn’t forced to?

She also doesn’t remember being invited to stay overnight. She remembers being invited to stay to hang out, not to pass out. Alicia sits up, exhaling, and she debates over whether she should wake up Al or just leave. Leaving sounds like a good idea, but Alicia hesitates at the back doors. She glances back at Al, but no, she’s just gonna go. She unlocks the doors as quietly as possible and slips out. She straightens out her shirt and starts to head in the direction of her truck when she’s intercepted.

“Hey!” Luci exclaims. Alicia squints against the sunlight, manages a smile as Luci scrutinizes her. “I couldn’t find you at your truck,” she says. “And Strand and Morgan both hadn’t seen you, so…” A grin spreads across Luci’s face. “I was going to search for you, but I guess I have my answer.”

Alicia frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I saw you leave Al’s van.”

“Okay,” Alicia says. “And?”

Luci claps her on the shoulder. “Nice job.”

“Nice…what? Hey! Don’t walk away. What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on,” Luci says, spinning back around to face Alicia again. “I’m not an idiot.”

“Apparently I am,” Alicia replies. “What are you talking about?”

“You spent the night with Al,” Luci says. “Come on, Alicia.”

“I – I fell asleep!” Alicia argues. “That’s all! Don’t start spreading rumors about something that is _not_ happening – never _will_ happen.”

Luci shrugs. “Alright. I’ll mind my own business. But I thought you would’ve told me if –”

“There’s nothing to tell because nothing is happening!”

Luci laughs. “Right, Alicia. Got it.” She winks then points toward the field where Morgan and Alicia usually practice Aikido. “Morgan was disappointed you didn’t show this morning.”

“I was asleep,” Alicia defends. “Tell him I’ll be there tomorrow.”

Luci nods. She starts to walk away again, but she stops and turns back. “Be more careful,” she suggests. “The wrong person sees you coming out of Al’s van in the morning looking like you had a fun night…well, people like to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've just gone back to work in the last couple weeks, so now I'm working a ton of hours, but I'll do my best to stay on top of this (and finish it, since I always worry about my ability to do that).
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll reply as soon as possible!


	2. some things are hard to let go of

Al’s estimate turns out to be right. It takes her just under a week to finalize the video and have it ready to be distributed around the area. Alicia has almost nothing to do with the video after Luci catches her leaving the van and assumes the worst. Al doesn’t ask for more help, and Alicia doesn’t offer it. In fact, Alicia barely sees Al at all during the six days it takes her to finish the video. Granted, Al barely leaves the van. Only at mealtimes and whenever it’s her turn to secure the perimeter. Otherwise, Alicia supposes, Al’s working on the video.

For six days, Alicia only sees Al when she picks up her food. For six days, Alicia sleeps as late as she wants, blows off Aikido with Morgan, and does whatever she feels like. Mostly nothing. Except on the sixth day, Alicia ventures out beyond their perimeter. Not far past it, just up the road. They’ve moved camps recently, but Alicia overheard Strand saying something to Morgan about how they’re being followed. No one’s been able to catch whoever the painter is, but Alicia wants to see it for herself. Sure enough, there’s another painted tree not far from their perimeter. It’s almost the same as the last – at least, the message is the same, even if the backdrop isn’t.

_If you’re reading this, you’re still here_

She hates the feeling the tree gives her. It’s simplistic, but effective. It gives her hope. There’s someone out there taking the time to paint encouraging messages on trees. It almost reminds her of Jake’s appreciation of the arts. Of course, the fact that Jake valued art didn’t help him when –

The growl is low and would’ve been inaudible if Alicia hadn’t heard the shuffle of shoes on pavement first. She whips around, finds the walker already almost on her, and she instinctively reaches for her hip, for the gun barrel she’d given to Strand. It feels like the last time she held the gun barrel was a lifetime ago. The walker’s got almost a whole foot on her, and she takes a step back. She should be able to evade it pretty easily, sprint back to camp, get someone to kill it. Instead, she trips over one of the roots of the tree and hits the ground on her ass.

_Oh God_ she thinks. _I’m the first girl that would die in any horror movie ever._

Even if that was true, Alicia isn’t willing to go down that easily. She gets her hand on a nearby rock, a rock bigger than her fist, and she prepares to bring it down on the walker’s head as she scrambles back to her feet. The walker stretches its arm out toward her, almost close enough to touch her, and Alicia raises the rock, bracing herself for whatever resistance this walker’s skull has to offer. Before she can take her first swing, a gunshot echoes off the trees, and the walker hits the ground at her feet, the back of its skull blown open. It doesn’t move. Alicia’s grip on the rock tightens, and she finds herself unable to tear her eyes away from the walker, away from the mush leaking out of its head onto the pavement. A lovely mixture of rotting brain matter and blood.

She remembers the treehouse, remembers the deformed walker, remembers its blood splattering onto her face, into her mouth. Remembers immediately feeling like she’d sentenced herself to death, remembers feeling so sure she’d end up with radiation poisoning and then end up dead soon after. She’d washed her mouth out too many times to count for almost an entire hour, until Strand dragged her away, convinced her she wouldn’t die. At least not right away. Her hands shake so violently, the rock finally falls from her grasp, clunking to the ground beside the walker. She distantly hears footsteps to her left, vaguely feels the hand that grabs onto her shoulder until a realization snaps Alicia out of her trance.

“The – the gunshot,” she manages to stammer. “It’s going to – there’ll be more –”

“It’s okay,” Al interrupts. She squeezes Alicia’s shoulder harder, and Alicia lifts her eyes to Al’s face. “We can move,” Al says. It’s getting dark, but Alicia can’t make her mouth form more words to remind Al that it’s more dangerous to move around after dark. She watches Al’s eyes leave her face, shift over to the tree behind Alicia, now splattered with deep red. Now it reads _if you’re reading this, you’re still_ , the final word – _here_ – completely concealed by the walker’s blood. “Come on,” Al says quietly. She’s still staring at the painting beyond Alicia, but she puts her arm around Alicia’s shoulders, holds on. Al moves, forcing Alicia to walk with her, away from the walker. They walk slowly, Al’s arm heavy around Alicia’s shoulders. Alicia doesn’t know if she wants to lean into Al or shove her away, doesn’t know if the weight of Al’s arm around her is comforting or suffocating.

Alicia doesn’t argue when Al walks her straight to the van. The gunshot unsurprisingly drew the attention of their group, and Morgan’s front and center when they arrive. Al sends Alicia to the van then goes to tell Morgan they all have to move. Alicia waits in the back of the van, the doors wide open, as Al tells Morgan to find someone to drive Alicia’s truck. And Alicia can’t even find it in herself to go argue about it. Al returns, closes up the back of the van, and brings up the rear of their little caravan as they drive to a new location. The sun has completely set by the time they settle again, and Alicia hasn’t spoken a word the entire ride.

Alicia hears Al’s seatbelt release, hears Al exhale as she leaves the driver’s seat and joins her in the back. Al sits across from her rather than next to her, thankfully, but Al fixes her with a piercing gaze that’s impossible to ignore.

“Why’d you go out there alone?” Al asks. “And unarmed, Jesus Christ. What were you thinking?”

“I wanted to see the tree,” Alicia answers softly.

“And you…what? Forgot we live in a world where the dead eat the living? Or you didn’t care? Did you go out there hoping –?”

“You don’t know _anything_ ,” Alicia hisses. “I made a bad decision, the same way you did when you chased Morgan after he stepped on a landmine.”

Al sits up straighter, jaw set. “That was a bad decision? He only defused the landmine because of _my_ help.”

“You risked your life –”

“For a friend,” Al snaps. “He made the bad decision, and I cleaned up his mess. This time, you made the bad decision.”

Alicia meets Al’s gaze, finally, refusing to show weakness. “And you saved my ass,” Alicia admits.

“What are friends for?”

“You take friendship very seriously,” Alicia murmurs.

Al chooses to ignore that comment and stands. She unbuttons her shirt, throws it aside, and smooths out her tank top. “Just promise me you’ll stop going out unarmed, okay?” Al says. When Alicia doesn’t immediately say anything, Al raises her eyebrows. “Well?”

“Okay,” Alicia mutters. “I promise.”

“You’re lucky I saw you leave,” Al replies. “Otherwise I might’ve found you ripped open next to that fucking tree.”

“Someone’s out there,” Alicia says. “Following us. Taking the time to paint trees, maybe overnight when there’s only one person on watch. That doesn’t make you curious?”

“Of course I’m curious,” Al says. “But this tree painter seems like the kind of person that’ll reveal themselves eventually.”

“Or die,” Alicia counters.

Al shrugs. “Or die. Or disappear off into the world. We’re trying to help people. We don’t need extra distractions.”

“Like hunting down the tree painter?”

Al smirks, but it slides quickly. “Exactly.”

“But what if the tree painter needs help?” Alicia questions.

“The video is done,” Al informs. “I finished it earlier. We’ll start placing them around the area in the morning. If the tree painter needs help, they can find us.”

*

Alicia doesn’t ask to go back to her truck. She spends the night in the van again, stretched out across the seats. This time is different, though. Rather than sleeping in the back across from Alicia, Al sleeps up front behind the wheel, with her feet resting up on the dashboard, seat reclined. Al wakes up before Alicia, but Al’s movements in the van are enough to pull Alicia out of sleep. Alicia’s still waking up as Al pulls her tank top over her head, and though Alicia’s groggy, she gets a hazy view of Al’s bare back. Alicia’s face immediately heats up, and she squeezes her eyes shut. Now she feels like a perv, even though she didn’t really see anything, and she tells herself she’s never sleeping in the van again. Maybe she should’ve listened to Luci. People _do_ like to talk, and now Alicia has something to be embarrassed about.

“Hey,” Al says, knocking her knuckles against the metal seat, right next to Alicia’s head. Alicia startles at the sound, heart picking up its pace, and she stares up at Al, who’s leaning over her. Al is wearing a shirt again, a bright red one Alicia has never seen before. Her usual necklace hangs around her neck. “Time to wake up,” Al says gently. “I have to start getting the video out there.” Al hesitates, but eventually adds, “You don’t have to come, but if you’re not going, then –” Al clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth and jabs her thumb toward the exit.

“Do you need me to go?” Alicia grunts. She sits up as Al shifts out of her space, watches Al’s lips curve upward into a slight smile.

“Need? No,” Al answers. She pauses momentarily as she starts to roll the sleeves of her shirt up to her elbows. “But if you want to go…you’re welcome to come along.”

Alicia smiles, rolling her eyes. “How nice of you.”

“I mean, we’re friends now,” Al teases. “And it seems like you need all the friends you can get.”

“Are you calling me a loser?” Alicia says.

“Not at all,” Al replies. “But since you aren’t killing walkers, you need people to watch your back. The more friends you have the better your chances of survival are, right?”

“Sure,” Alicia says. She exhales heavily. “I’ll come with you. Just give me some time to change and what not.”

Al nods. “Take your time.”

Alicia pokes her head out of the back of the van first to get an idea of who might see her leave. As far as she knows, no one. She slips out and jogs to her truck, relieved to find whoever drove it out here did not stay overnight. They left the keys in the cup holder, and she pockets them after she puts on fresh clothes. Before she locks the doors, her eyes fall on a small object resting on her dashboard, an item that definitely wasn’t there when she last left. She knew she still had it, somewhere. She has no idea where it came from, so whoever drove her truck definitely snooped through her stuff, but sitting on the dashboard is obviously her butterfly knife.

Alicia’s breath hitches in her throat, and she kind of feels like someone punched her in the stomach. The last time she’d used that knife, both Madison and Nick were still alive. She’d never gotten rid of it. It stayed in her backpack as she hunted down the Vultures with Nick, Strand, and Luci. She’d thrown it into her desk drawer at the factory and made sure to take it every time she left the building, just in case something happened – which, eventually, something did. She hasn’t thought about the plane crash in a while, but now the memory slaps her in the face. There was a reason she purposefully let it disappear when she first moved into her truck. More than one reason.

She’s taking too long, holding Al up. They have a lot of ground to cover, and Al wants to do most of it today. Alicia pulls herself together, tries to slow her heart by breathing deeply, and snatches the butterfly knife off the dashboard. She almost throws it into the backseat of the truck, almost lets it get lost amongst her meager belongings. Instead, she tucks it into the breast pocket of her jacket and buttons the pocket shut. The knife doesn’t weigh much, but it’s impossible for Alicia not to be aware of it. She slings her backpack, packed with a few personal belongings in case their trip goes overnight, over her shoulder. Alicia locks the truck and walks back to the van. She isn’t surprised when she’s intercepted on the way.

“Alicia,” Morgan calls. Alicia suppresses a sigh and turns back, eyebrows raised.

“Morgan,” she greets mildly. “What’s up?”

He motions to the staff in his hand, and after a long moment, Alicia realizes he’s holding _her_ staff rather than his own. “Forgetting something?” he asks.

“I’m not killing walkers,” Alicia reminds him. She can’t help but to sound a little sour, even though she hasn’t done Aikido with Morgan in at least a week. “And I’m helping Al distribute the recruitment video, so there won’t be much time for practicing.”

“You think going is a good idea?” Morgan questions.

Alicia bristles at that. “It’s not like I’m going alone,” she argues. “Al can protect me.”

Morgan nods. “I trust her to,” he says. He leans against Alicia’s staff, drawing Alicia’s eyes to his hand, to the wedding ring he still wears on his finger. “I just – I miss our Aikido sessions,” Morgan admits.

Alicia opens her mouth to make an excuse – something about being busy or tired, but she hasn’t been busy, and being tired is an even worse excuse, because they’re all tired all the time. “I’ve been catching up on my sleep,” Alicia says. It’s not a lie. She’s done a lot of sleeping during the past week. She doesn’t want to admit it to herself, but all the time she spent helping Al film the video and taking notes gave her something close to a purpose. Without Al and the video to keep her busy, she’s been asleep a lot. “And I’ve been…reading,” Alicia says weakly. That’s not a complete lie, but she hasn’t been able to read more than a few pages a day. She always gets distracted, always finds her eyes flicking to the SWAT van, as if Al was going to step out. She only did at meals or after dark, when Alicia couldn’t see across the campsite.

“I understand,” Morgan says. “And if you want to pursue other interests, I’ll back off. I just thought you should have this.”

He holds the staff out to her, balancing it on his palms. Alicia sighs, but she takes the staff from him with a nod. “Thanks,” she says. “I appreciate it. Everything. But I don’t know if Aikido is for me.”

“I know,” Morgan says. “I was hoping – but it’s alright. Just please, keep the staff. It’s yours.”

“Thanks, Morgan.”

“Have a safe trip,” he adds.

“Tell that to Al,” Alicia jokes. Morgan flashes a smile, and Alicia takes this as her opportunity to step past him. She uses the staff as a walking stick until she gets to the van, and when she climbs into the back, she sets it off to the side.

“Morgan misses you, doesn’t he?” Al says from somewhere up front.

“Yeah,” Alicia mutters. “But I don’t think Aikido is for me.”

“Not surprising.”

“Sorry?” Alicia says.

Al emerges from the front and grins at Alicia. “Lock the doors,” Al instructs. Alicia does, then dumps her backpack to the floor. “I just mean Aikido is about defense, right?” Al continues. “I’ve seen you fight. You’ve never seemed too concerned about defense.”

“I have layers, Al,” Alicia says slyly. “But you’re right, I guess.”

Al winks at her. “Let’s get this show on the road, yeah?” She motions toward a cardboard box pushed up against the wall of the van. “There are the copies of the video,” Al explains. She digs a folded up map out of the pocket of her pants and opens it. “Morgan marked ideal spots for us to leave copies. Mostly truck stops with generators, so the video can be played. We’ve got to cover ten stops, at least to start. So you can help me navigate, okay?”

Alicia nods and takes the map from Al. She looks it over quickly, deduces the most logical path, then joins Al up front. Alicia makes sure to put her seatbelt on as Al starts the engine. “This is going to take all day,” Alicia says.

“At least,” Al agrees. “I’m glad you thought to bring a bag.”

“Always plan for the worst, right?” Alicia jokes. Al smiles, maybe a silent way of agreeing with Alicia, then starts driving. It isn’t until they’re pulling into the parking lot of the first truck stop that Alicia blurts out, “I gave you a pretty useless interview.”

“What do you mean?” Al asks.

“I mean…I didn’t really say anything important.”

Al puts the van in park, shuts off the engine, then twists to face Alicia. “I thought you did,” Al says. “It works nicely in the finished video.” Al pauses, scratching the back of her neck. “You know, if you want to watch the full thing before we get started –”

“It’s fine,” Alicia dismisses. She undoes her seatbelt and folds up the map, tucking it safely in the pocket of her jacket that isn’t holding the butterfly knife. She swallows hard when she thinks about the knife. Carrying it on her – she still feels weighed down by it. She’s not about to show Al that she has it, though. Knowing Al, she’ll ask questions Alicia doesn’t want to answer.

“You don’t want to see it?” Al asks.

“No,” Alicia says. “Can we just do this and be done?”

Al nods. Her eyes linger on the side of Alicia’s face a little longer than necessary. “Do me a favor,” Al requests. “Grab one of the copies of the tape then wait here until I’m done killing all the walkers, okay?”

“Got it.”

Alicia plucks one of the copies from the cardboard box and adds it to the pocket holding the map. She heads back to the front to watch Al kill walker after walker through the windshield. Al’s using her usual trench spike, but Alicia notices Al’s still got a pistol holstered at her hip. Apart from John Dorie, Al’s one of the only people in the group that regularly has a gun on them now. Sarah and Wendell have a huge stash, sure, but even they don’t normally go around toting a gun. They’re too dangerous, and not just because they’re loud as hell. Alicia knows that first hand. She gave her guns away, thinks they ended up in Sarah and Wendell’s collection.

Alicia’s eyes track all of Al’s movements, tracks all the walkers converging on her. She stays close enough to the van to be able to escape if the situation escalates beyond her ability, but even though Al is approaching this in the safest way possible, Alicia is still on edge. She gnaws on her lower lip, and when Al has a close call, Alicia presses her hand flat against her pocket, feeling the butterfly knife against her chest. She inhales deeply, but Al dodges the first walker and knocks it off balance then kills the second, providing her with an opportunity to kill the first walker. Alicia exhales as Al clears out the parking lot then waves for Alicia to join her.

“Stay close,” Al warns. “There could be more inside.”

“Right.”

Alicia does as she’s told and sticks close to Al. Closer than she normally would. So close, their arms bump frequently as they walk to the entrance. If Al notices, she doesn’t say anything. When they reach the doors, Al throws her arm out, and Alicia walks into it in her attempt to reach for the door handle.

“Let me go in first,” Al says. She pauses and looks Alicia over quickly. Alicia fidgets under Al’s gaze, suddenly feeling nervous, but Al just says, “Tell me you have a weapon on you.”

Rather than answering aloud, Alicia pats her breast pocket where the butterfly knife is, and Al’s eyes follow. “Don’t stare at my chest,” Alicia teases, but her voice sounds faint.

“Are you screwing with me?” Al asks. “Or do you actually have a weapon in your pocket?”

“I have a weapon,” Alicia snaps. “Just go.”

Al throws the doors open and knocks the trench spike against the metal doorframe, attracting three walkers from the back. She kills them in quick succession then steps fully in, waiting for Alicia to follow.

“Shouldn’t take too long,” Al mutters, mostly to herself. “Go see if there’s a working generator please.” Alicia does as she’s told and reports back that, yes, there is a working generator. Al takes care of the rest, makes sure the tape will play, then nods toward the van. “Ready to go to the next spot?”

Alicia nods and pulls the map from her pocket. She lays it out on the counter, and Al moves into her space. Alicia’s muscles tense, and she breathes shallowly, but Al doesn’t seem to notice. Al just plants her fingertip against their next stop. Alicia spots a cup holding pens near the register, and she uses that as an excuse to move away from Al. She picks a black pen and makes a neat X over their current location on the map.

“One down,” Alicia murmurs.

“Nine more to go,” Al says. She grasps onto Alicia’s shoulder and smiles lopsidedly. “Ready to go?”

Alicia swallows hard but manages a slight nod. She tucks the pen into her breast pocket then folds up the map. “Yeah,” she says. “Let’s go.”

*

They hit seven of the ten stops on the map before it starts to get dark, and they probably would’ve been able to do all ten if stop number four hadn’t given them an hour’s worth of technical problems. By stop number seven, though, Al is exhausted from killing literally over a hundred walkers. Stop seven is the truck stop the farthest from their campsite. In fact, they’re nearly out of range of the walkies. Al brings the van to a stop as close to the truck stop as she can, and she kills the engine, just like she did six times before. But this time she pauses with one hand still gripping onto the steering wheel.

“You alright?” Alicia asks warily.

Al nods and pulls the key from the ignition. “Yeah,” she answers. “Just tired.”

Alicia watches Al wipe sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. “Well,” Alicia says slowly, “we could wait until morning to hit the last few stops?”

“One more,” Al insists. Alicia doesn’t argue, and they set up the video to play at the seventh truck stop. Pleased with their work, Al leads Alicia back to the van. “We can camp here tonight,” Al decides as she locks up the van. Alicia gingerly takes a seat in the back, clasping her hands together in her lap. “I’ve already cleared all the walkers in the immediate area, and it’s quiet out here.”

“That’s fine with me,” Alicia agrees. “You must be tired.”

Al chuckles, nodding, and she kicks her boots off to the side. “Yeah. Exhausted.”

“You killed a lot of walkers today,” Alicia says. She treads carefully, but Al doesn’t seem bothered by the conversation.

“Yeah,” Al says. “Maybe over a hundred.”

“Definitely over a hundred.” Alicia hesitates. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Al asks. Alicia watches as Al removes the necklace from around her neck and gently stores it in her safe.

“For not helping,” Alicia mumbles.

“What do you mean?” Al questions. “The only reason we got the video to play at the fourth truck stop is because you figured out the problem.”

“I mean, I’m sorry I didn’t help you kill any of the walkers,” Alicia clarifies. “Your muscles must be killing you.”

“It’s nothing new,” Al dismisses.

“I just…feel bad.”

“No reason to feel bad,” Al replies. She drops down onto the seats across from Alicia, exhaling as she stretches. She’s almost too tall to fit across the seats comfortably. “I knew what I signed up for when I asked you to come.”

“It’s still –”

“Alicia,” Al interrupts gently. “It’s okay. Let it go.”

“Okay,” Alicia says quietly. She unzips her jacket and sets it aside. She’ll probably have to use it as a blanket later. She stares across the aisle at Al, who stares right back at her.

“What’re you thinking about?” Al asks softly.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Alicia’s eyebrows pull together. “But why’d you ask?”

Al props her head up on her hand and shrugs with the shoulder not pressed against the seats. “I’m curious.”

Alicia exhales heavily then shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about a lot of things.”

“Like what?”

Alicia presses her lips together and debates on whether or not she wants to open this can of worms. Before she thinks it through fully, she grabs her jacket and unbuttons the breast pocket, pulls the butterfly knife out. She holds it up for Al to see, and Al stares at the knife for a long moment without saying anything.

“So you actually _were_ armed?” Al says.

“I didn’t lie about that,” Alicia huffs. She stares down at the butterfly knife in her hands. “I used to know some tricks,” she admits. She opens the knife, exposing the blade, and she runs her fingertip along it carefully, not wanting to accidentally draw blood. “It’s been a while since I’ve used it.”

“Why do you have it now?”

“Someone left it on my dashboard,” Alicia informs. She snaps the knife shut. “Whoever drove my truck after you saved my ass from that walker, I guess. I don’t remember where I kept it, so someone must’ve gone through my shit to find it. Left it for me.”

“That’s weird.”

“A little,” Alicia agrees. She slips the butterfly knife back into the jacket pocket and sets her jacket aside again.

“Why’d you stop using it?” Al asks. “Why use that broken off piece of –”

“Don’t insult my gun barrel,” Alicia jokes wearily.

“Fine,” Al says, cracking a smile. “But that knife’s a little more elegant, don’t you think?”

“The gun barrel gets the job done,” Alicia says. “And I don’t have to get as close to kill something.”

“When’s the last time you killed something, Alicia?”

Alicia has to remind herself there’s no camera separating her from Al. They’re just two friends, having a conversation. “The radiated walker,” Alicia whispers. “That was the last one.”

“And then you gave the gun barrel to Strand?”

“Yeah.” Alicia inhales deeply then adds, “I stopped using the knife while I was still living at the baseball stadium with my family. I found the gun barrel and just…swapped them out. It was easier.”

“I get that.”

“Now you tell me what you’re thinking about,” Alicia says. She kicks her boots off and swings her legs up onto the seats, mimics Al’s position with her head propped up. They lock eyes from across the aisle, and for a minute, Alicia thinks Al’s going to deny her request.

“Right now or what I was thinking about before I asked you the same question?”

“Whichever.”

“I was thinking about how I crashed a plane,” Al says cheekily. She grins, but it’s quickly replaced with a more troubled look. “I could’ve killed us all.”

“You didn’t.”

“I almost did.”

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“I beg to differ,” Al replies. “But that’s in the past now, isn’t it?”

“Some things are hard to let go of,” Alicia says.

Al hums. “I don’t find things hard to let go of,” she says. “People are much harder to let go of than things are.”

Alicia hesitates. “I agree.”

“I think most people would.”

“There’s someone you miss?” Alicia dares to ask. She expects Al to laugh the question off, to bring back her usual easygoing behavior, but the look on Al’s face stays deadly serious.

“Of course,” Al answers. “You have people you miss, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but…you know about them. I don’t know anything about the people who were important to you.”

“They’re all dead,” Al says nonchalantly. But that troubled look comes back. “Except for maybe one.”

“Who is it?”

Al’s smile is uneasy, almost apologetic. “I can’t talk about her.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t.”

“Too painful?” Alicia guesses.

“Something like that.” Al breathes deeply, lets her eyes close. “I didn’t know her for very long, anyway. Just a few days.”

“But she’s important to you. I get it.”

“Do you?”

“I lived at this ranch for a while,” Alicia says. “Before the baseball stadium. There was a guy there…we weren’t together too long. A couple months at the most. I don’t know. It feels like it happened a lifetime ago. I wasn’t there when he, um – when he died. But he still believed in the importance of, like, literature and art and shit. I said I thought my mom would like those trees that seem to be following us, but I think he would’ve liked them even more.”

Al’s eyes reopen, and Alicia clears her throat, blinks away the tears that threaten to spill over. Thankfully, none do. Al’s inquisitive gaze doesn’t leave Alicia’s face for quite a while, but the silence between them doesn’t feel awkward the way it had just a few days ago.

“You want to look for the painter?” Al asks.

“I don’t know,” Alicia says truthfully. “I think maybe that’ll just set me up for disappointment, you know? Like, what if the painter is a dickhead or something?”

Al smiles wearily. “Yeah, I understand that. Most people end up being disappointing anyway, right?”

Alicia laughs. “Most,” she agrees. “But not all.”

“Name someone who _hasn’t_ disappointed you,” Al challenges. “One person who has _never_ let you down.”

Alicia pauses, scratches at her stomach as she thinks it over. “Well,” she says, “you.”

Al’s eyebrows raise. “Me?”

“Well, to be fair,” Alicia says, grinning widely, “I only started to get to know you for real a couple weeks ago. And I still don’t know a lot.”

“I told you my last name.”

“I couldn’t pronounce that to save my life,” Alicia says.

“No one can,” Al says.

They share a smile, and when Al yawns, Alicia says, “Don’t let me keep you up.”

“It’s fine,” Al says. “We can keep talking if you want.”

“Is that just because you know I don’t talk to people much anymore?”

“Did you ever consider maybe I just enjoy talking to you?” Al replies.

“No.”

Al smirks. “Good. Because that’s not the reason at all.”

They both bust out laughing, and Alicia sits up, because clearly they won’t be sleeping anytime soon anyway. To Alicia’s surprise, Al gets up and opens one of her numerous secret compartments to pull out an unopened bottle of whiskey.

“You know,” Al says, twisting the cap off, “after a long day at work, I used to be able to go to a bar at the end of the night for a drink. Now I have to do it locked up in the back of my van, usually alone.”

“At least you still have alcohol, though,” Alicia points out.

“I’ll give you that,” Al agrees. “Don’t let me drink too much. We still have work to get done in the morning.”

Alicia nods and accepts the bottle from Al after she takes her first swig. Alicia swallows a mouthful, hands the bottle back, and says, “You talked about that in your interview when we first started working on the video. Going to bars. You said you missed it.”

“There’s a lot of things I miss,” Al says. She drops down onto the seats directly across from Alicia, holding the bottle between her spread legs.

“Why bars?”

Al grins and shrugs. “Why not? They had alcohol. You could play darts with your buddies. Pick up chicks. Bars were great.”

Alicia swallows hard and motions for Al to pass the bottle back. “I bet you were super popular with girls in bars,” Alicia jokes. She drinks more whiskey as Al laughs and nods, pushing her hand through her hair. Alicia would almost say Al seems a little…embarrassed.

“Yeah. Popular enough, I guess.”

“I wasn’t old enough to get into bars before everything went to shit,” Alicia says. “I have the feeling I wasn’t really missing out on too much.”

“Well, you also didn’t have a job yet, did you?” Al questions. “That’s what I thought.” She takes the bottle back then asks, “What were you gonna do? You were from…California?”

Alicia nods, slightly impressed. “You remember?”

“Sometimes my memory serves me well.”

“I was gonna go to Berkeley,” Alicia says quietly. “Things didn’t work out.”

“Things,” Al says. “You mean the dead?”

“What else would I mean?” Alicia says bitterly. “I was ready to leave, and then this shit happened.” She shakes her head then mutters, “And now there’s nothing left.”

“There are still people,” Al says. “You have people who care about you here.”

“My mother died,” Alicia says. “And Nick died. I never thought – I mean, I knew it was possible, but I never thought it would actually happen. If I’d had to guess, I would’ve thought I’d be the first to go.”

Al stares at Alicia like she’s an intriguing puzzle to be solved and leans back, crossing one leg over the other. “Tell me more about the boyfriend that was all into the arts,” Al says. “If you want.”

“Only if you tell me about the mystery girl.”

“I can’t tell you much,” Al says. “I don’t know much about her myself.”

Alicia grunts. “His name was Jake,” she says. “He convinced me that there are still some things worth living for. That life shouldn’t just be all about staying alive.”

“He sounds idealistic.”

“Yeah, well, his idealism got him killed,” Alicia mutters. “So what about the mystery girl?”

Al clucks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Her name’s Isabelle. She told me I’m the prettiest thing she’s seen since the end of everything.”

Alicia can’t help it. She laughs hard, and she doesn’t feel bad about it, because Al’s there laughing with her. “Seriously?” Alicia says.

“Dead serious,” Al says. She even crosses her heart. “I knew her for, like, seventy-two hours, maybe.”

“What else?” Alicia presses.

“I swear, I don’t know anything else about her. She wasn’t very talkative.”

“C’mon,” Alicia says. “Give me anything.”

“She was taller than me,” Al says. “Just a little bit. And she was very serious. I don’t remember if she laughed at a single one of my jokes, and my jokes are funny.”

Alicia snorts. “Right, okay. She sounds reasonable, except for the whole _prettiest thing since the end of everything_ part. I’m still not sure you didn’t make that up.”

“I’m not making it up,” Al insists. “I swear on my life.”

“Wow,” Alicia says. “She must’ve really liked you.”

Al shrugs. “I guess she didn’t really know me, either, even though I did most of the talking.”

“She just thought you were hot.”

“She definitely thought I was hot.”

Alicia laughs so hard, she nearly falls over onto the seats, catching herself just in time. When she calms down, she asks, “You want to hear something terrible?”

“Yeah. Always.”

“Sometimes I don’t know if I miss Jake or if I just miss regularly having sex.”

It’s Al’s turn to laugh. “Yeah, I understand that.”

“But that’s terrible, isn’t it? I mean, I loved him –”

“But sometimes, you really just need to have sex,” Al finishes. “I know.”

“Yeah, well, I doubt there’ll be any sex for anyone anytime soon,” Alicia says. “Not with this caravan thing Morgan is trying to set up. No such thing as privacy anymore.”

Al waves her hand in dismissal. “Please. John and June will have plenty of sex, privacy or no privacy.”

Alicia grimaces. “I did not need to hear that.”

“I’m just speaking the truth, Alicia.”

Their eyes meet, and Alicia smiles and shakes her head. “This is a really weird conversation, Al.”

“Who cares if it’s weird?” Al replies. “I haven’t laughed this much in a long time.”

“Me either.”

“We should’ve decided to be friends a long time ago,” Al says. “You’re not so bad.”

“Geez, thanks,” Alicia says. “You’re not so bad, either.”

“I know.”

They laugh again, even though it’s really not that funny. Alicia blames it on the little alcohol they’ve had and the fact that it’s getting late. Everything’s funnier in the middle of the night.

“So,” Alicia says as their laughter dies off. “Based on physical appearance alone, would you have tried to pick Isabelle up in a bar before all of this, yes or no?”

Al scoffs. “Oh, hell yeah. Absolutely. Would I have succeeded? Probably not.”

Alicia rolls her eyes. “I’m sure you would’ve eventually. You’re awfully persistent.”

Al smiles. There’s a strange glint in her eye, but after she blinks, it’s gone. “I don’t know,” Al finally says. “That’s a life I’ll never have.”

Alicia exhales, nods in agreement. “We got cheated out of a lot of things, didn’t we?”

“I’ll drink to that.”

Alicia passes the bottle back, and Al drinks then caps it, stores it away. Al pulls the bottom of her shirt up to wipe beads of sweat from her forehead, and Alicia averts her gaze. “She’s still alive though, right?” Alicia asks. “Isabelle. She’s still out there somewhere?”

“As far as I know,” Al says.

“So there’s always a chance.”

Al shakes her head, rubs at her jaw. “No, not really. It’s complicated.”

“It usually is. But alive is better than dead.”

Al nods. “Yeah, I’ll give you that,” she says. “Not to be a party pooper, but I think we should get some rest. We’ve got another long day tomorrow.”

*

Al has to wake Alicia up when the sun rises. She shakes Alicia gently until Alicia sits up and pushes her hand away.

“The next truck stop is six miles away,” Al informs. “I’m gonna start driving, okay?”

“Yeah,” Alicia groans. Her joints pop as she stretches, and she yawns as the engine fires up. “Just let me change, okay?”

Al waits for Alicia to change before driving off, and they head off to their last stops. They knock out the rest with no issues by midafternoon, though Alicia feels guiltier and guiltier as she stays back and watches Al do all the dirty work of slaughtering walkers. When the last walker falls at their final stop, Alicia watches Al hiss in pain as she pulls the trench spike free of the walker’s skull.

“You okay?” Alicia calls.

“Tweaked something,” Al replies, flexing her right shoulder. She rotates it carefully, and Alicia gives her a few moments to assess the damage.

“Well?” Alicia questions.

“I could use one of those pain relief patches or something,” Al says, cracking a smile. “But I’ll live.” They set up the final station, test the video to make sure it works. It does, and Al pats Alicia on the back. “Great,” Al says. “Now let’s go home.”

“So that’s it then?” Alicia asks as they walk back to the van.

“That’s it for now,” Al confirms. “Now we wait and see if anyone contacts us.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then I bet you Morgan will want to set up even more viewing stations around the area,” Al says.

“I mean, it’s better than stepping on landmines, right?”

Al shakes her head. “Morgan steps on a landmine _one time_ –” They both laugh as they take their spots in the front of the van. “Thanks,” Al says. “For coming along. It was a lot more fun than doing it alone would’ve been.”

Alicia shrugs. “Morgan would’ve never let you go alone.”

“Yeah, but if you didn’t come, it probably would’ve been Morgan instead, and you know he likes to lecture rather than carry a real conversation.”

Alicia tries not to laugh, even though Al’s right. “He’s trying to help,” Alicia says.

“You can’t even say that with a straight face.”

“He lectures,” Alicia concedes, “but he means well. Most of the time.”

“Well, sometimes it gives me a headache,” Al says. “Don’t repeat that.”

“I would never.”

Al grins. “I would’ve finished that entire bottle of whiskey if Morgan had come along. Don’t tell him I said that, either.”

“I swear, I won’t say a word,” Alicia says. “I mean, I kind of agree with you there.”

“I don’t know how you’ve spent all that time doing Aikido with him.”

“He normally doesn’t talk too much,” Alicia replies. “It’s quiet. But I – I’m done doing Aikido, remember?”

“For now,” Al says. She motions to the map. “Make sure I don’t get us lost, okay?”

“We won’t get lost. And what, you think I should keep doing Aikido?”

Al purses her lips and shrugs. “I don’t know. Do whatever feels right to you.”

“I’m asking for your opinion,” Alicia says. “You know. As a friend. Do you think it’s worth my time?”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“I enjoy the quiet,” Alicia says.

“You can sit under a tree and enjoy the quiet,” Al points out. “Do you enjoy Aikido?”

“It’s…okay.”

“Maybe you should look for new hobbies, then,” Al suggests.

“Like painting trees?” Alicia snorts.

“Maybe not trees,” Al says. “But you could probably find paint and canvas on your next supply run.”

It’s actually not a terrible idea, but Alicia mutters, “I’ve never been much of an artist.”

“Yeah, me either. I’ve always been better with words.”

“Me too.”

*

The rest of the ride occurs in comfortable silence apart from Alicia giving directions, but that’s mostly just _turn right_ or _turn left_ until they reach their campsite. Their arrival draws everyone from the group over, and Morgan is front and center when they leave the van.

“How’d it all go?” Morgan asks. His eyes flick between Al and Alicia, but Alicia just shrugs and waits for Al to answer.

“Perfectly fine,” Al says. “All stations were up and running when we left them.”

“Great job,” Morgan says. “Now we just have to wait. You’ll see. People will start coming to us.”

Al and Alicia exchange a dubious glance, but no one speaks up. Morgan says something about going on a short walk, and the group starts to disperse, except for Luci and June.

“We need to go on another supply run,” Luci informs Alicia. She points at June. “We need to try to stock up on medical supplies, especially if we’re going to be taking more people in. We want to be prepared.”

“Right,” Alicia says. “Of course. When are we going?”

“We were hoping to go soon,” June says. “And we were hoping you would lend us your van, Al.”

Al’s eyebrows raise. “Of course,” she says. “But then I’m going with you. I’m more than happy to be your driver.”

Luci beams. “Sounds great,” she says, clapping her hands together. “The four of us can go. I just have to grab my gun and we can leave.”

“You have a place in mind?” Alicia asks.

“We found a few spots while you guys were out,” June says. She pulls a map of her own out of her pocket and holds it out to Alicia. “Hopefully they’re not all empty.”

“If we get lucky, they won’t be,” Alicia replies. She studies the map, but all of the marked places are somewhat nearby. “You think we can hit them all before sundown?”

“We should be able to,” June says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Why? You think it’ll take longer than a few hours?”

Alicia shrugs and hands the map back. “Probably not, as long as everything goes smoothly.”

Al smirks. “But when does anything ever go smoothly around here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	3. you know where to find us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I just worked 5 exhausting days straight, but I hope you enjoy this chapter!

June is the only person who really knows what to look for, at least as far as medications go. Alicia just does her best to stay out of the way as Al, June, and Luci kill walkers and scour the shelves for useful supplies. It isn’t until they reach the final stop that Alicia takes an interest in what they’re doing, and that’s only because she’s presented with an opportunity to break away.

“Hey, Luci,” Alicia calls. She waves her over after the last walker falls dead at Al’s hands.

“What’s up?” Luci questions.

Alicia nods toward the building next door to the pharmacy. “I’m sure Al and June can handle clearing out the pharmacy,” Alicia says. “You want to head into that hardware store with me? See if we can dig up anything useful?”

Luci thinks it over for a moment then nods. “That’s a good idea, actually.”

Alicia smiles. “Will you tell June that we’re gonna head over?”

“Yeah,” Luci says. “Wait here.” It’s not a long conversation, and June appears to easily agree with the idea. Luci jogs back over to join Alicia and pulls the knife from her belt. “I guess I don’t have to tell you to stay close,” Luci says.

“I’m used to it,” Alicia mutters.

“Take as long as you need,” Luci says. “And if you never want to kill a walker again…well, you know we’ll always have your back, right?”

“Yeah,” Alicia says quietly. “Thanks, Luci.”

Luci hums in acknowledgement and kills the walker that stumbles out of the hardware store just as they reach the entrance. “Are we looking for anything in particular?” Luci asks.

“Depends on how picked over the store is,” Alicia replies.

“Let me rephrase that,” Luci says, smirking. “What are you looking for, Alicia?”

Alicia hesitates. “It’s stupid.”

Luci shrugs. “How stupid can it really be?”

“Maybe it’s not stupid,” Alicia concedes. “But it’s kind of pointless, maybe. I don’t know.”

“What are we looking for?” Luci asks.

“Paint.”

*

“So how was your trip?” June asks. Al glances over at her from the other end of the aisle, but June isn’t looking her way. June’s eyes are trained on the labels of every bottle she picks up and adds to their bag.

“Fine,” Al answers. “One stop gave us some technical problems, but we handled it.”

“How was killing all the walkers by yourself?”

“Well, my muscles still ache,” Al laughs. “But I knew what would happen if I brought Alicia. Honestly, it’d be no different if I’d taken Charlie.”

“Charlie kills walkers.”

Al shakes her head. “She shouldn’t have to. She’s still a kid.”

“If she wants to survive, she has to learn somehow,” June replies. “So how long do you think Alicia will keep this up?”

“The not-killing-walkers thing?”

“Yeah.”

Al shrugs. “I don’t know. Until she feels ready again. You were there, weren’t you? When she got that blood in her mouth?”

“The odds of her getting radiation poisoning –”

“I’m just saying,” Al interrupts gently. “I kind of get where she’s coming from. If it’d been me…I don’t know how I’d cope with it. If this is what she’s got to do to get better, we’ll support her.”

“Of course,” June says. She looks up this time, mildly shocked. “I wasn’t saying we shouldn’t support her.”

“I know.” Al grins. “You just worry too much.”

“Someone has to worry,” June replies. She pauses, pressing her lips together. “Is she okay?” June asks.

“Alicia?”

“Yeah.”

Al shifts her weight, eyebrows pulling together. “Yeah? I mean, I doubt I’d be the person she’d go to even if she wasn’t okay, but she seemed…normal.”

June nods. “That’s good.”

“You’re worried about her.”

“I’m worried about everyone,” June corrects. “But especially Alicia. I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but I did live with her at the baseball stadium for a while.”

“Right,” Al says. She taps her fingers against the shelf next to her. “She wanted to kill you because of what happened. And Charlie.”

“It feels like that was forever ago,” June admits. “Sometimes, I almost forget it myself. We’re all so different now.”

Al frowns. “Don’t be so sure about that.”

*

Luci helps Alicia load paint cans into the van, making sure they have a variety of colors. Alicia makes sure not to forget to grab brushes of all different sizes. Somehow, they manage to finish before Al and June are done in the pharmacy, so they wander up and down the aisles, searching for anything they think they might need someday, keeping in mind Morgan’s vision of a larger caravan. They don’t talk much, don’t feel like they have to.

The store almost looks untouched. Apart from the lack of electricity and the glaring emptiness of specific shelves, Alicia can almost fool herself into thinking she isn’t living in a world after society crumbled. It’s almost a nice feeling, walking up and down the aisles with a friend, acting as if she’s just browsing in a store on a normal day in a walker-free world. The world hasn’t been walker-free in a long time, but once in a while, it’s nice to forget.

“Maybe we should regroup with Al and June,” Luci says before Alicia can step out into the garden center. “All those plants out there are probably dead, anyway.”

Alicia sighs. “Right,” she says. She nods toward the entrance. “Lead the way.”

“Did Al tell you it’s dangerous to be unarmed?” Luci asks as they step out into the parking lot.

“I’m not unarmed,” Alicia replies. She pats her jacket pocket where the butterfly knife rests. “And Al isn’t in charge of me.”

“She saved your ass when you wandered off to see that tree,” Luci says.

Alicia startles. “You know about that?”

“Nothing stays secret for long, Alicia. You know that.”

Alicia scoffs. “And it’ll only get worse as we add more people to our group.”

“People need something to keep them entertained,” Luci dismisses.

“Yeah. But don’t worry about me, okay? I’ve got this under control.”

Luci hums, a short, deep sound in the back of her throat, but she doesn’t say anything more. She holds the door to the pharmacy open for Alicia, and they locate June and Al still picking over the shelves.

“It’s gonna get dark soon,” Luci reminds them. “We have to hurry up if we want to make it back to camp before sundown.”

“This place is _loaded_ ,” June says. “We can’t just walk away without taking as much as possible. Especially if we’re going to be adding new survivors to our group along the way.”

Luci glances over at Alicia. “Okay,” Luci agrees. “We’ll help you grab as much as we can, but we really should go back.”

*

By the time they leave the pharmacy, the sun is setting. By the time they reach the campsite, it’s well after dark.

“Who’s supposed to be on watch?” Al asks. To her right, June continues to sleep with her head resting against the window. Alicia and Luci both startle, and Luci lifts her head off of Alicia’s shoulder.

“I don’t know,” Alicia says.

“What time is it?” Luci yawns.

“Almost eleven,” Al answers.

“I think it’s Morgan’s turn,” Luci says. “But who knows? Maybe John volunteered so he’d be up when June got back.”

“Alright, well, we’re not keeping all this stuff in my van,” Al says. “The medical supplies can all go to June’s truck –”

“And I can take all the stuff from the hardware store,” Alicia pipes up. “I have plenty of space.”

Al nods. “Great. Let’s get this over with.”

Al parks the van and shakes June awake gently. Alicia’s the first person to leave the van, hauling cans of paint and paintbrushes to her truck, trying to go unnoticed by Al and June. She loads all the paint into the backseat and throws some of her clothes over them to hide them from view. Not that anyone’s peering through her windows, but who knows? Someone went through her shit to find her butterfly knife. She may trust everyone enough to save her life, but she doesn’t trust them not to be snoopy.

Alicia heads back to the van to see if Al, June, and Luci need any help moving the medical supplies to June’s truck, but she gets there right as Al steps out with the last bag.

“We’re all set,” Al tells her.

“That was fast,” Alicia says.

“John helped us,” Al says, shrugging. “Luci was right. He took Morgan’s spot on watch so he could wait for June.”

Alicia snorts. “Well, now he has to stay up half the night. Hope it was worth it.”

Al passes the bag to June, thanks her, and bids her goodnight before turning her full attention back to Alicia. “Being on watch isn’t so bad,” Al says. “It’s quiet.”

“Morgan doesn’t give me any shifts,” Alicia says, smiling sardonically. “Maybe because I don’t kill walkers anymore.”

Al grins. “Don’t complain. If you want to sit awake in your truck all night, no one’s stopping you.”

Alicia laughs. “Shut up, Al.”

“You want a shift?” Al questions. “Take mine. It starts at three, right when John’s ends.”

“And if a walker wanders in?”

“Better find someone to wake up.”

Alicia shakes her head. “You’re such a dick, Al.”

Al smirks and sends Alicia a wink that she can only see because Al has purposefully left the van’s headlights on while they unloaded the supplies. “There are worse things to be, Alicia.”

Before Al can disappear fully into the van, Alicia calls, “I’ll take your shift.”

“It’s yours,” Al replies. She pauses with her hand on the door handle to add, “Goodnight, Alicia.”

*

Alicia forces herself to get at least a few hours of sleep before three a.m. rolls around. A sharp rapping sound pulls Alicia out of her peaceful slumber, and she groans loudly. She heads out of the truck, rubbing her eyes, and joins John on the street.

“It’s three already?” Alicia grumbles.

“Yes, ma’am,” John says. “You all set up?”

“Yeah,” Alicia grunts. “Morgan wakes up really early.”

“That he does,” John agrees. He tips his hat and passes Alicia the flashlight. “Don’t fall asleep,” he warns.

“I’ll be fine,” Alicia dismisses. “Goodnight, John.”

“G’night.”

Alicia climbs up onto the roof of her truck and watches John disappear into the truck he shares with June. Alicia shines the flashlight around their campsite, moving from vehicle to vehicle, but nothing moves. Nothing makes a sound. It’s silent except for the usual crickets and the occasional frog.

She waits until enough time passes that she feels safe assuming that John must be asleep. Alicia slips off the roof onto the hood of the truck then slides down to the ground. She sweeps the flashlight back and forth as she crosses the campsite and starts to head up the road. She pats her jacket pocket, just to make sure the butterfly knife is still there, then keeps walking. Her steps are as quiet as possible, but they still sound unbearably loud, particularly as gravel crunches beneath her boots.

She doesn’t know what she’s expecting, honestly. The painted trees have never been far from their campsite. There’s a chance she’s already missed whoever paints them, but when she arrives at the most likely site for a painting, all the trees are bare. She doesn’t know how the painter operates in the dark or how they haven’t been caught if they utilize a light source. She hates that she’s a little more than disappointed by the lack of a painting. She supposes it’s possible that the painter hasn’t caught up with them yet since they moved. She refuses to entertain the idea that the painter has decided to move on from them. The painter must be following them for a reason.

She heads back to her truck and grabs two cans of paint, one a light blue, the other white. She takes two paintbrushes and heads back to the spot. She picks a thick tree and gets started, flashlight in one hand, paintbrush in the other. She’s no artist, but she doesn’t have to be. With the thicker paintbrush, she slathers the blue paint all over the tree. It’s sloppy, but it’ll do. She takes a seat on the pavement to allow it to dry, scanning the surrounding area for any signs of movement. Alicia waits until she can press her fingers to the tree without getting paint on her hands before she opens the white can of paint and dips the thinner paintbrush into it.

She’s careful. She takes her time, trying to ensure her hands won’t shake and mess it up. When she’s finished, she steps back to admire her work. It’s not anything like the other paintings that have been following them. There’s no image to accompany the phrase, just a blue backdrop. Strand and Luci will know right away that this painting came from her. But this painting isn’t for anyone in their group. It’s for whoever’s out there painting the other trees. Alicia gathers up the paint cans and paintbrushes and takes them back to her truck, hides them away. She knows Strand and Luci won’t sell her out. Once she double checks that the campsite is secure, she walks back out to the tree and examines her work one last time. She swallows hard as the memories rise, but she crams them back down. She touches her fingertips to the tree and allows herself a small moment to miss her family.

She steps back, her eyes never leaving the words she painted. _No one’s gone until they’re gone_. She nods to herself then walks back to camp. She does a quick sweep of the campsite, just to make sure nothing has wandered in. When she finds no signs of any intruders, she climbs back up onto the roof of her truck. She estimates that maybe an hour has gone by. Alicia sits perched up on the roof, legs crossed, until the sun rises. She passes the rest of the time by relearning all the tricks she used to know with the butterfly knife, practicing them over and over as the hours pass until she can perform them seamlessly again without having to concentrate on what she’s doing. By the time someone approaches her truck, she’s swinging the knife around like old times.

“Well, you made it,” Morgan calls. He’s got his Aikido staff in his hand, and he plants it on the ground and leans into it as he stares up at Alicia. Alicia pauses, the butterfly knife caught mid-swing between her fingers, and she meets Morgan’s gaze.

“Yeah,” Alicia agrees.

“No problems?”

Alicia shakes her head. “Not a single walker.”

Morgan nods. “That’s good,” he says. “I was going to start my morning Aikido session.”

Alicia picks back up with the knife, averts her eyes from Morgan’s face, opting to stare up the road beyond their campsite instead. “Don’t let me stop you,” Alicia replies. Besides, she’d left her staff in Al’s van, and she has no intentions of retrieving it, especially not at six in the morning when Al is definitely still asleep.

Thankfully, Morgan nods. He’s about to head on his way, but he turns back to say, “I’m up now, if you want to get some rest.”

“Thanks,” Alicia says. She doesn’t need to be told twice. She hops down from the roof and gets in the truck. She drops the butterfly knife in the cup holder and sleeps behind the wheel, seat reclined, rather than across the backseats like usual. She can’t fall asleep at first. She’s too on edge, too certain Morgan’s going to stumble across the painting and link it to her somehow, come back to ask questions she doesn’t want to answer. When ten minutes pass and Morgan doesn’t show up, she falls asleep.

*

Alicia isn’t disturbed until afternoon, and the first knock startles Alicia out of sleep. She looks to the window, heart hammering in her throat even though the details of her dream start to fade immediately, especially as her eyes land on Al, hunched over to be able to stare into the window. Alicia pops the door open and pulls her seat upright.

“What’s going on?” she mumbles.

“There’s a new tree,” Al informs. “Thought maybe you’d want to see it.”

Alicia’s lips part, and she – stupidly – almost says _I’ve already seen it_. “Are you going to escort me?” Alicia asks. Al’s lips twitch into a near smile, and she smacks her hand against the roof of the car.

“Sure,” she says. “Why not?”

Alicia plucks the butterfly knife from the cup holder and leaves the truck. Al shuts the door for her, and Alicia instinctively flips the butterfly knife open even though she’d originally intended to pocket it. She realizes Al’s eyes are on her, following her movements. It’s almost like riding a bike, Alicia thinks. It’s all muscle memory now.

“You’re pretty good with that,” Al comments. Alicia grunts in response and snaps the knife shut, tucking it into her pocket.

“I had a lot of time to practice last night,” Alicia mutters.

“I bet.”

They reach the tree, and Alicia chokes on air. There’s her tree, sure, with _no one’s gone until they’re gone_ painted on it. On the tree next to it is a completely new painting. The backdrop is blue, not quite the same shade as Alicia’s painting but close. There’s a white bird painted on it with the same phrase as before: _If you’re reading this, you’re still here_.

“Two this time,” Al says, crossing her arms over her chest. “But look.” She presses her fingertips to the unknown painter’s tree then moves her hand to Alicia’s. “The handwriting is different.”

“Weird,” Alicia says faintly.

Al smiles. “More than one painter, then? A group of people, maybe?”

“Or they just changed up their writing for this new tree,” Alicia says.

“But why?”

Alicia shrugs. “Hell if I know.”

Al grins. She drops her hand on Alicia’s shoulder, startling her, but she doesn’t say anything. Alicia clears her throat, but she isn’t sure if the contact bothers her or not. “You want to look for the painter?” Al asks.

Alicia inhales deeply. “I don’t know if it’s worth our time. Besides, they’ll probably see the videos we left all over the area, right?”

“Probably. Doesn’t mean we can’t try to find them first. Obviously they know we’re here.”

“It’d be easy to catch them, wouldn’t it?” Alicia muses. “Just wait up for them in the middle of the night.”

“And if they’re dangerous? Who has the upper hand?”

“We do,” Alicia scoffs. “And they haven’t done anything to harm us yet. If they wanted to hurt or kill us, I think they would’ve attacked already in the middle of the night.”

Al’s eyebrows quirk upward, and she hums in agreement. “Is it time to find out who the painter is?”

“Why not?”

“Are you hoping for something?” Al questions.

“What?” Alicia asks. She lifts her eyes to Al’s face and finally brushes Al’s hand off of her shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“The painter,” Al says. “Are you hoping to find out something in particular?”

“Besides who it is?”

“Yeah.”

Alicia shakes her head. “I mean…I want to know why they’re bothering with this. Don’t you?”

“It’d make an interesting interview,” Al agrees. She knocks her hand into Alicia’s arm. “Alright, tell you what. We’re going to sit up tonight. Try to catch the painter in the act.”

“Are you going to tell anyone we’re doing this?” Alicia asks.

Al smiles. “Hell no.”

*

Alicia spends the rest of the day nervous. She knows Jake is dead, but she can’t help to at least hope the painter is someone like Jake. Someone who still has an appreciation of art. Given that the painter has done nothing except leave paintings behind for them – painting with encouraging messages at that – she thinks that’s exactly the kind of person they’re going to find. The day drags on, even though they move and set up a new campsite. Al purposefully parks the van so it backs up to the most likely place the painter will choose for their next piece of artwork.

As the sun starts to set, Al joins Alicia at the truck. Al’s visibly packing a pistol at her hip, but she left her rifle behind. Doesn’t want to come on too strong, Alicia supposes. “I already talked to Morgan,” Al informs. “We’re doing the perimeter check, and then he thinks I’m taking the first shift. Technically, I guess I am on watch first, but we’ll be up waiting for the painter.”

“So, the perimeter check?” Alicia says.

Al nods then reaches behind her, slides something out of the back of her waistband. She holds out a pistol different than the one holstered at her hip. Alicia recognizes it immediately. It’s her Glock, the one she gave up months ago. When Alicia doesn’t move, Al says, “Well? Take it.”

“I don’t want that,” Alicia says quietly.

“I don’t care if you want it or not,” Al replies. She shoves the Glock into Alicia’s hands. The weight is uncomfortably familiar. “We aren’t meeting someone we don’t know without both of us being armed.”

“Why?” Alicia questions. She reluctantly accepts the Glock, checks that the safety is on, and jams it into her waistband. “Doesn’t that send the wrong message?”

“We don’t know what we’re dealing with,” Al says. “Better safe than sorry. People are always more dangerous than walkers.”

Alicia doesn’t argue. She doesn’t feel right carrying the Glock again. She doesn’t think the painter will be a threat to them. If the painter wanted to hurt them, they would’ve already struck overnight rather than just painting the trees right outside of the boundary of their campsite. As Alicia secures the perimeter with Al, she grows more and more anxious at the idea of meeting the mysterious painter. She told Al she wants to know why the painter bothers following them, bothers with leaving paintings behind, but Alicia secretly worries she’s going to be disappointed with whoever they find.

“Morgan,” Al says into her walkie. Alicia jumps; they haven’t spoken since they first set out to secure the perimeter. “Perimeter is secure,” Al says. “I’m going on watch.”

“Thanks, Al,” Morgan responds. Al motions for Alicia to follow her back to the van, and they wait on the back steps for the rest of their group to turn in for the night. Rather than letting her leg bounce incessantly, Alicia fiddles with the Glock, checking the magazine over and over even though she knows it’s fully loaded. But she pops it in and out, over and over, until Al reaches over and grabs Alicia’s hand, stilling her movements and causing her to jump.

“That’s annoying,” Al says.

“Sorry.”

Al smiles slightly, as if she understands, and gently pries the gun from Alicia’s hands. Al locks the magazine back into place and sets the Glock on the steps between them. “You can pick that back up when we have something.” Alicia nods but slides the butterfly knife out of her pocket. Before she can do anything else, Al’s hand grasps onto hers again, and both their hands close around the knife. “We should be as quiet as possible,” Al says. “Don’t want to scare ‘em away.”

Alicia exhales and transfers the knife over to Al, too. Alicia balls her hands into fists and rests them on her thighs as Al places the butterfly knife beside the Glock. They could have to wait hours, Alicia realizes. That’s hours in the dark, in relative silence, seated on the back steps of Al’s van. And she can’t even practice her knife tricks. And since talking, too, could alert the painter to their presence, their options are limited. Alicia crosses her arms over her chest and leans back, shifting around until she’s in a position that would almost be comfortable to sleep in, if that’s what she wanted to do.

The next thing Alicia knows, a hand clamps over her mouth, and she wakes with a start. “Shh,” Al hisses, right next to her ear. All of the muscles in Alicia’s body tense, but she stays silent and deathly still. “Someone’s out there.”

Alicia nods, and Al slowly pulls her hand back. Alicia shakes off the grogginess that falling asleep has brought her and picks up her weapons. She returns the butterfly knife to her pocket and tucks the Glock in the side of her waistband as she stands, following Al’s lead. Al’s hand rests against the gun at her hip, and she walks with her body slightly positioned in front of Alicia’s. If Alicia won’t even kill walkers, there’s no way she’ll kill another human being. At least, that must be what Al’s way of thinking is. Alicia can admit to herself that Al wouldn’t be wrong about that.

They don’t have to walk far. There’s a flashlight perched on top of some kind of a case – probably for hauling art supplies, if Alicia has to guess. The flashlight is aimed at the tree, half painted, and at the person in front of it. At first, their arrival goes unnoticed, at least until Al flicks on their own flashlight and aims it at the painter. He freezes mid-brushstroke and turns his head just enough to be able to see them.

“Gotcha,” Al says. She smiles, and Alicia watches the way Al’s eyes comb over the painter’s body, searching for any signs of a weapon. There’s a knife sheathed at his hip, but a knife’s not as concerning as a gun. Alicia spots one, but it’s not on him. It’s resting next to the flashlight, just a few feet out of his reach. If he moves to grab the gun, Alicia has no doubts that Al will pull her own gun and shoot him dead before he gets there.

“Look, I don’t want any trouble,” the painter says. He slowly leans over to set his paintbrush down beside his can of paint. His eyes flick toward the gun and the flashlight, but he doesn’t make any move toward them. Al’s hand continues to rest against her gun, but she doesn’t pull it. Alicia keeps hers concealed with her jacket, hooks her thumbs through her belt loops as she studies the painter. He’s a young black man, probably younger than Al but not younger than Alicia. He’s maybe Al’s height, taller than Alicia but not by much. He’s in a battered green polo shirt, and there’s a little smear of blue paint near his collar. Why Alicia notices his shirt of all things, she doesn’t know.

“We don’t, either,” Al assures him. Her hand, though, stays pressed against the gun at her hip. She moves the flashlight beam off his chest and aims it at his half-painted tree instead. She nods toward the tree. “We just wanted to see who’s been leaving us artwork to find every morning.” When the man doesn’t respond, Al glances over at Alicia then adds, “I’m Al. This is Alicia. You probably aren’t surprised to learn we’re with the group you’ve been tracking.”

“I’m not tracking anybody,” the man denies, but it’s a thinly veiled lie. Even if it wasn’t so obvious that they were being followed by someone, his body language would be a dead giveaway.

“A newly painted tree pops up every time we move campsites,” Al replies. “You’re following us.” When the man doesn’t say anything, Al prompts, “What’s your name?”

He pauses for a long moment, looking between Al and Alicia as if he’s attempting to determine who poses the greater threat. When his eyes stop on Alicia, he answers, “Wes.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Wes,” Alicia says quietly. He stares at her curiously then turns his gaze back to Al. His expression shifts, Alicia notices, when he’s staring at Al. He looks more suspicious.

“So what’re you going to do with me?” Wes asks.

“Nothing,” Al answers. “We just thought we could…talk.”

“Talk?” he questions.

“About your trees,” Al says. “ _If you’re reading this, you’re still here_. Those are all yours, right?”

“Yeah.” Wes hesitates. “But there was one yesterday that I didn’t do. Maybe I’m not the only one out here.”

“ _No one’s gone until they’re gone_?” Al questions.

“Yeah,” he confirms. “That one isn’t mine.”

“It’s mine,” Alicia blurts out, startling both Al and Wes. “I painted it,” she admits. “No one’s gone until they’re gone – it’s the last thing my mom said to me before…you know.”

“You painted it?” Al says. If Alicia didn’t know any better, she’d think maybe Al’s a little hurt by this knowledge, by the fact that Alicia didn’t bother to tell her sooner even though she had plenty of opportunities to say something, but here she is, blurting it out to a random stranger who paints trees.

“Yeah,” Alicia mumbles. “I did it before Wes showed up and painted the other one.”

“Why?” Al asks.

Alicia shrugs. “I don’t know. I found paint at the hardware store. Wanted to give it a shot, but I’m no artist.”

“You don’t have to be an artist,” Wes pipes up. “You still got the message across.”

A smile flickers on Alicia’s face even though she can feel Al’s piercing gaze on her. Wes smiles back at her before he seems to remember the situation he’s in. “Why paint trees overnight?” Alicia asks.

“Why follow us specifically?” Al questions.

“I do them overnight to avoid being caught,” Wes says. “I should’ve figured you’d wait for me eventually.”

“Why us?” Al asks again.

Wes hesitates, looks over his shoulder as if someone’s going to be behind him. “Look, you guys haven’t been out this way too long. Just over a month, right?”

“Something like that,” Al says. Honestly, Alicia has no idea how long they’ve been out here, traveling around like they’re a caravan. They don’t quite have enough people for that yet, but Morgan promises that they’ll get there. Maybe –

“There are bad people out here,” Wes warns. “I saw your video at a truck stop. You’re out here because you want to help people?”

“That’s right,” Al says.

“There are other people out here who only want to help themselves,” Wes says. “I figured sticking close to the group that hasn’t done any damage was my best bet.”

“Best bet?” Al presses. “Best bet for what?”

“Staying alive, if shit hits the fan,” Wes says.

“What do you think could happen?” Alicia asks.

Wes laughs, careful to keep his voice down. “If those other people decided to target me.”

“Where are they?” Al asks.

“Not far,” Wes says nonchalantly. “They have a settlement less than twenty miles from here. Some place called Paradise Ridge.”

“Who are they?” Alicia questions. “And what do they want?”

“Hell if I know,” Wes answers. “I’ve been avoiding them like the plague.”

“Do they know about you?” Alicia asks.

“I have no idea,” Wes says. “But I’m just one guy. I don’t draw much attention on my own. The real question is: do they know about _you_?”

Alicia and Al exchange an uneasily glance. “What else do you know about them?” Al demands.

“They say they’re out here to help people, but they’re ruthless,” Wes says.

“How do you know that?” Alicia asks.

“What is this, an interrogation?” Wes scoffs. He hesitates, glances over his shoulder as if he’s being watched, but explains, “I was raiding a grocery store one day and saw them pull up on horseback. They were out there talking to someone – I could only kind of hear them, but it was about the truck that the guy had. Whole conversation lasted maybe five minutes. They wanted the guy to join them. Mentioned their settlement at Paradise Ridge.”

“And what happened?” Al asks when Wes doesn’t immediately offer up the information.

Wes’s eyes lock with Al’s. “When he refused to join them, the woman on the lead horse shot the guy dead in the street,” he says flatly. “She had one of her men take the truck and all the dead guy’s things. Left the body behind. She didn’t even bother to put him down. They rode off as he was getting back up.”

“Where did this happen?” Alicia asks quietly. Wes’s eyes leave Al’s face, and he looks Alicia over quickly.

“Maybe five, ten miles from here,” he says. “They’re around. I’m surprised you haven’t met them yet.”

“Maybe we’re just lucky,” Al says, smiling thinly. She finally takes her hand away from her gun. “If you wanted us to protect you, you could’ve come to us,” Al says.

“How am I supposed to know if you’re really any different from them?” Wes snorts.

“Well, we haven’t killed you yet,” Alicia points out. “And have you seen us kill anyone for refusing to join us?”

“I haven’t seen much of anything, honestly,” Wes says. “I may be following you, but I’m not a total stalker.”

Al covers up a laugh by coughing into her fist, which buys Alicia enough time to offer, “You could join us, you know. If you wanted to. Then you wouldn’t have to paint your trees in the dark.”

Wes hesitates, looks from Alicia to Al then back to Alicia. “I don’t know you,” he says. “And I told you, I saw your video. I want to mind my own business, not end up stepping on a goddamn landmine to help someone who doesn’t even want to help themselves.”

Al stiffens, but Alicia’s not deterred. “You don’t have to help in that way,” she argues. “Just having extra hands around can help us. You could help with the day to day stuff.”

“Supply runs,” Wes says, shaking his head. “Thanks, but no thanks. Unless you’re going to kill me for saying no.”

“We aren’t going to kill you,” Alicia insists.

“Then can I finish painting my tree?” Wes asks.

“Be our guest,” Al answers. She seems to have relaxed a little, at least as far as Wes is concerned. She isn’t standing so defensively anymore, doesn’t have her hand right against her weapon. He’s not the threat now, Alicia realizes. This unknown group is the problem. It doesn’t matter that they secretly snuck off to meet the painter. Al’s going to have to fill the rest of the group in first thing in the morning.

“If you need anything,” Alicia says, “or if you change your mind about joining us…you know where to find us.”

*

Alicia follows Al back to the van. Al’s shift won’t be over for another hour, and she offers to walk Alicia back to her truck, but Alicia shakes her head.

“I won’t be able to sleep,” she admits.

“Disappointed in what we found?”

“No,” Alicia says. “No, actually…he seems nice.”

Al scoffs. “Sure, if by _nice_ you mean, _at least he didn’t pull a gun on us_.”

“He didn’t, though,” Alicia points out. “Didn’t even try.”

Al grunts. “I’m not worried about him,” she says. “I’m worried about those people he told us about.”

“We have to tell the others,” Alicia says.

Al nods solemnly. “In the morning,” she agrees. “First thing.”

Alicia hesitates. “You mind?” she asks, motioning toward the van.

“Nope,” Al says. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be in after my shift ends.”

Alicia manages to turn on a light inside the van, albeit a dim one, and then she immediately ditches the Glock, setting it on top of Al’s safe. Just touching the thing makes her feel dirty. She takes her jacket off and bundles it up to use as a pillow then lounges across the seats and fidgets with her butterfly knife until she hears the back doors open.

“You up?” Al asks softly.

“Yeah.”

The light comes back on. Al locks the doors behind her. Al starts shedding her weapons, then her boots, and she drops down on the seats across from Alicia. “He’s gone,” Al informs. “I saw the flashlight go out, and I swear I heard a motorcycle off in the distance.”

Alicia swallows hard and closes up the butterfly knife. “So he rides a motorcycle but parks it far enough away that it won’t make too much noise?”

“Doesn’t want to draw too much attention from us, probably,” Al says. “Doesn’t matter now.”

“Why wouldn’t he just join us?” Alicia mutters.

“Some people like being on their own,” Al replies. “We can’t make people join us.”

“We could. Obviously we won’t, but it sounds like that other group out there is doing just that.”

“Sounds like they’re killing anyone that refuses,” Al says. “We aren’t like that.”

“Obviously they aren’t out here to help people,” Alicia says. “Even if that’s what they’re pretending it happening. So what are they really out here for?”

“Beats me.”

“You aren’t curious?”

Al exhales heavily. “Of course I am, Alicia, but I’m also interested in staying alive. Hunting these people down just to interview them sounds like a death sentence.”

“That doesn’t sound like the Al we’ve all come to know,” Alicia teases.

Al, though, just sighs. “We’re all different people, even just since we lost the factory to Logan. You stopped killing walkers because you’re looking for some greater purpose. I talk to people, interview them on camera, because that’s my purpose. That’s what keeps me going. I’ve been doing it since before the dead walked. But I just – I’m sitting on all of these interviews, but I’m the only person who has access to them. We managed to spread our recruitment video. I could compile interviews into a movie, make copies of it, allow other people to see them.”

“A lot of the people you interviewed are still alive,” Alicia points out. “I don’t know if they’d like that.”

Al grunts. “Yeah. I know. That’s why I haven’t done it, but what happens when I die?”

“We’d take care of your tapes, Al.”

“And when you guys die?” Al questions. “We’re all going to die someday. I want to die knowing my tapes – the stories on the tapes – meant something.”

There’s a long pause before Alicia says, “They already mean something, Al. I’d never get to see my mother’s face again if it wasn’t for –” Alicia cuts herself off rather than letting her voice break and forcefully clears her throat. “You know,” she finishes.

“Yeah,” Al says. “You’re right. I just feel like I could help more people.”

Alicia lets her eyes close as the exhaustion finally starts to set in. “You’ll find a way,” she mumbles. If Al says anything back, Alicia doesn’t hear it.

*

Alicia jolts awake when Al’s fingertips press into her shoulder. “I’m going to fill Morgan in,” Al says. “You don’t have to come, but I thought I’d warn you.”

“You’re going to tell him everything,” Alicia grunts.

“I don’t really have a choice, Alicia.”

Alicia nods and waves Al off. “You go,” she says. “I’m gonna sleep.”

Al leaves, and Alicia falls back to sleep. Not for long. Someone enters the van less than ten minutes later and plops down on the seats next to Alicia. Alicia groans and grabs at the person’s arm, trying to determine who it is without having to open her eyes.

“Good morning!” Luci says cheerfully. “I know you’re awake, Alicia.”

“Please let me sleep,” Alicia says, pushing at Luci’s arm.

“Nope,” Luci replies. “Al filled us all in on what happened last night. She told us about the painter – Wes – and about the group he’s afraid of.”

“So what do you need me for?” Alicia grumbles.

“Tell me more about Wes,” Luci requests.

“When I wake up.”

“You are up. Come on.”

“What’s there to tell?” Alicia questions.

“Is he cute?”

Alicia’s eyes pop open. “Seriously?” she says as Luci busts out laughing.

“Seriously.”

Alicia resists a smile and rolls her eyes. “I guess,” she says.

“You guess? No, you definitely think he’s cute. Look at you. You’re blushing.”

“Shut up!”

Luci laughs and grasps onto Alicia’s shoulder. Thankfully, she lets the subject go. “Come on,” she says. “John made breakfast.”

Luci stands to give Alicia enough space to sit up. “You aren’t worried?” Alicia asks. “About those other people?”

“We haven’t seen them yet,” Luci says. “We’ll deal with it when we have to, right?”

Alicia nods. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Too bad he didn’t want to stay with us,” Luci muses.

“Luci,” Alicia warns. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” Luci says. She grins and wraps her arm around Alicia’s shoulders. “Then maybe we should talk about how you crashed in Al’s van _again_.”

“Luci!”

Luci laughs and leads Alicia to the center of their campsite for breakfast. Alicia crams her mouth full of food as quickly as she can so Luci can’t keep asking about Wes or Al and expect a response. Alicia chews pointedly whenever Luci looks like maybe she wants to say something and gulps down water between every mouthful of food.

“It was delicious, John,” Alicia says when she turns in her dishes.

“Thank you, Alicia,” John says. “I tried my best.”

Alicia smiles at him and manages to slip away as everyone else steps up to turn in their dishes. She heads up the road to the tree they’d caught Wes working on. She approaches it slowly, jamming her hands into her pockets. It looks the same as the other paintings, but after a few minutes of studying the painting, Alicia notices a small detail that was definitely not on the other paintings. Her eyebrows pull together, and she leans in closer to make sure she isn’t imagining it. After the final word, _here_ , there’s a small _W_. Alicia smiles to herself and takes a step back, accidentally kicking a rock and sending it scattering across the pavement. Alicia instinctively looks down and spots it.

Alicia glances down the road toward their campsite. If anyone has realized she’s gone, no one has come to search for her. She kneels on the pavement and scoops up the little slip of paper. She unfolds it and reads the shaky words, written in smudged black ink.

_You should paint more._

_– W_

Alicia smiles to herself, feels her cheeks flush for no good reason. She folds the paper back up and tucks it into her jacket pocket, buttoning it securely. She stares up the road in the direction Wes would’ve gone.

“Hey! There you are,” Al calls. Alicia turns back, eyebrows raised. “We’re checking our maps,” Al informs. “Searching for whatever this Paradise Ridge place is.”

“Maybe we should go for a drive,” Alicia suggests. “Try to find it ourselves.”

“That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

Alicia smirks. “I’m sure I could come up with worse.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“We can take my truck,” Alicia offers. “Just…do a drive by.”

“We don’t even know what to look for – or where to look,” Al points out.

“Well, when you find something on the map,” Alicia says, “call me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	4. this isn't what i signed up for

Al slaps the map down on the hood of Alicia’s truck and points at the three red circles drawn on it. “There, there, and there,” Al says. “Three potential spots that this Paradise Ridge could be at.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Al confirms. “So are we going or not?”

Alicia smiles. “Tomorrow,” she says. “It’ll be dark soon.”

“Morgan said we’re not moving today,” Al says. She shakes her head. “Maybe he thinks someone’s going to contact us, now that the videos are out there.”

“What difference does a mile or two make?”

Al shrugs. “It makes a difference to Morgan.” Al hesitates. “So…what are you doing tonight?”

“Tonight?” Alicia questions. “I – nothing? I mean, I don’t have any plans, if that’s what you’re asking. Actually, I never really have any plans. Why?” When Al doesn’t immediately answer her, Alicia smirks. “You have something in mind?”

*

“This isn’t what I signed up for,” Alicia says.

“Oh, come on,” Al replies. “Go along with it. Make them happy.”

Alicia sighs but scoops up the cards laid out on the pavement in front of her. She sits cross-legged between Al and Charlie and accepts the poker chips pushed toward her.

“Alright, kiddos,” Sarah says. She finishes off her beer and tosses the bottle aside. It shatters against a rock somewhere off the road, causing Charlie to jump, but Sarah doesn’t seem to notice. “You ready to get your asses handed to you?”

“Hey, there’s an actual kid here,” Al says. “Maybe be careful with your language.”

“Sorry,” Sarah says offhandedly. She pulls a cigarette out of her shirt pocket and sticks it between her lips before she realizes she doesn’t have a lighter. She pats herself down until Al produces one out of her shirt pocket and lights the cigarette for Sarah.

“I don’t think I count as a kid,” Charlie argues.

“Not now, kiddo,” Sarah says, puffing smoke off to the side. “We can talk after I beat you all at poker.”

Alicia surprises herself by having a good time, even if Sarah has picked up a new smoking habit and cracks open her fourth beer after she’s lost half of her chips to Charlie. Charlie, who claims she’s never played poker before, is either incredibly lucky or an amazing liar. By the time Sarah’s out of chips, Alicia has a growing suspicion that maybe Charlie’s hustling them.

“Come on,” Al laughs. “It’s going to be embarrassing if we both get beaten by a twelve year old!”

“Hey, I’m almost thirteen,” Charlie says. She grins widely, guarding her cards closely so Sarah can’t try to cheat by sending signals to Al or Alicia. Al’s pile of chips is quickly diminishing, and Alicia thinks she’s the only one who has a shot at taking on Charlie. She considers that maybe she shouldn’t try to fight to win, that she should just let the kid win. Except she can’t do that. Al runs out of chips before long, but she stays seated beside Alicia and attempts to help her beat Charlie.

“This kid is either a total natural or she lied about not knowing how to play,” Sarah announces. She accidentally spills beer from her sixth bottle down her chin and knocks her hat askew, barely keeping it atop her head.

“Shh,” Charlie says. “Don’t sell me out like that.”

“See! I knew it!”

Al grabs Alicia’s hand to stop her from pushing too many chips into the pot. “Are you trying to lose faster?” Al asks.

“Hey, I’m still in the game,” Alicia says. She shakes Al’s hand off of her. “Mind your own business and get out of my space, Al. I need to concentrate on my cards.”

Al smirks, raises her eyebrows. “So when I’m around you can’t concentrate?”

“Shut up,” Alicia says. Al laughs, and Alicia shoves her before she pushes the majority of her chips into the pot. “That was, like, twenty chips,” Alicia says. “What do you want to do, Charlie?” Charlie adds twenty chips into the pot and lays her cards down. Alicia resists the urge to throw her cards when Charlie beats her hand yet again. “You’re cheating,” Alicia blurts.

Charlie smiles and collects all the chips. “Not cheating,” she boasts. “I’m just really good at poker.”

“I thought this was supposed to be fun,” Alicia complains.

“I’m having fun,” Charlie says. She points over her shoulder. “I think Sarah’s having fun, too.”

“Sarah’s having too many beers,” Al says. “Sarah, don’t –” It’s too late. Sarah opens her seventh beer and starts drinking.

“If you want to give up and declare me the winner, then we can go find Wendell and get Sarah back to their truck,” Charlie says.

“Fine,” Alicia grumbles. “You win. Happy?”

Charlie beams. “Very. Thank you.”

Alicia claps Charlie on the shoulder. “Go tell Wendell to expect a drunk Sarah in a few minutes, okay? Al and I will get her to the truck.”

“Got it.”

Charlie runs off, and Al and Alicia quickly clean up their game before turning their attention to Sarah. “Alright,” Al says. “C’mon, Sarah. Wendell’s waiting for you to get back.”

“Well, he can wait a few more minutes til I finish my beer,” Sarah says. Her words are starting to slur together. She fixes her hat so it sits properly on her head and waves her beer around. “We all got our asses handed to us by a _child_. A twelve year old _child_ beat all of us at poker. We should be ashamed.”

“The kid’s happy,” Al says. “Just let her be happy.”

Sarah grunts. “Fine. It was worth it because the child is happy. Okay, now walk me back, ladies.”

Al takes the beer from Sarah’s hand, and once Sarah’s safely back at her truck with Wendell, Al finishes off the beer. Alicia shakes her head, and Al grins and says, “Hey, we shouldn’t waste perfectly good beer just because Sarah can’t pace herself.”

“Sure, Al.”

“Thanks for playing,” Al says, holding the empty bottle against her chest.

“Yeah, it’s – it was pretty fun,” Alicia admits.

“Told you it would be,” Al replies. Al pauses, and her eyes flick to the sky, turning a pleasant orange color as the sun sets. “You got a minute?” Al asks.

Alicia shrugs. “It’s not like I’ve got somewhere else to be.” Al nods in acknowledgement and motions toward the van. “My truck’s closer,” Alicia blurts before she realizes she’s inviting someone into her living space. The only people she really allows to spend time in her truck are Luci and Strand, and they usually never stay long.

“Alright,” Al agrees.

“Is something wrong?”

“Just want to talk,” Al says vaguely. She follows Alicia to the truck and waits until they’re both settled in the front. Alicia wrings her hands in her lap, waiting for Al to start the conversation, but Al keeps staring out at the horizon.

“So,” Alicia says, clearing her throat. “What’s up?”

“You painted a tree,” Al says. She tears her eyes away from the sky, locks them onto Alicia’s face. Alicia barely manages to prevent herself from flinching under Al’s gaze.

“I did.”

“That’s why you went into the hardware store. You wanted to get paint.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” Al asks.

Alicia clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth and shrugs. “I felt…inspired.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Al asks. “When I showed you the trees…you could’ve told me it was yours. Instead, you waited to tell a guy we had just met.”

“Well, it’s easier telling someone you don’t know,” Alicia defends. “It was the last thing my mom ever said to me. It was personal.”

“I thought we were friends.”

Alicia’s eyebrows raise. “We are,” she says. “But – I don’t know – I thought maybe Wes would get it, since he’s out there, like, spreading a positive message or whatever.”

Al’s eyes narrow. “We don’t even know him.”

“He didn’t give us a reason to think he’s a bad person.”

“We still don’t know him.”

“Is it that big of a deal?” Alicia questions.

“No,” Al says. “It’s not.”

“Okay,” Alicia says. She studies Al’s face for a moment. “Are we still searching for Paradise Ridge tomorrow?”

“Absolutely.”

Alicia nods. After a long few moments spent in silence, she inhales deeply and asks, “Al, are we good?”

“What?”

“Are we good?” Alicia repeats.

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

Alicia makes a noncommittal sound and shrugs again. “Just making sure.” Alicia sighs. “I should’ve told you about the painting, but I – I couldn’t figure out how, until Wes said it wasn’t his painting. Then I just blurted it out.”

“It’s okay,” Al says. “You don’t owe me anything.”

Something about that statement – while technically true – doesn’t sit right with Alicia. She flinches, and she’s glad that Al’s too busy staring out the windshield as the sunlight rapidly wanes to notice.

“Yeah, but we’re friends,” Alicia says weakly. “I should’ve just told you.”

“You could’ve,” Al says. “I wouldn’t have judged you.”

“You would’ve asked what it meant,” Alicia says. “I gave you the end of my mom’s story, but I didn’t want to talk about…that.”

“Why not?” Al asks gently.

Alicia rubs at her eyes, jaw clenching. “I’m still not sure what she meant,” Alicia admits. “It’s like…I cling to the last thing she said to me, but I don’t feel like I understand it. Not really. But it was the last thing she ever said to me and Nick, so it must be important. If I could just talk to her one last time –” Alicia cuts herself off abruptly, sharply inhaling. “But that doesn’t matter,” she mutters. “I can’t turn back time and save her. She’s really gone.”

Al hums. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No,” Alicia says softly. “You deserved an explanation. And I should’ve just told you when we went to see the two trees. There wasn’t anyone else with us, so I have no excuse.”

“Except that it’s personal.”

“But I had no problem telling Wes.”

“Well, to be fair, you didn’t tell him much,” Al points out.

Alicia shakes her head. “It’s stupid,” she confesses, “but I was hoping to, I don’t know, connect with him, at least about the paintings. I thought maybe…maybe he shared some of Jake’s philosophies.”

“Ah.”

Alicia’s a little surprised that Al doesn’t have more to say. Maybe she’s afraid of striking a nerve, even though Alicia was the one to bring up Jake. “I know we don’t know him,” Alicia says, partly to fill the silence that’s settling over them. “But I think we can help him.”

“We can’t force him to accept help. He sounded like he was doing fine on his own.”

“He’s sticking close to us because he’s afraid of this other group,” Alicia argues. “That doesn’t sound fine.”

“He rejected an offer to join us,” Al reminds. “We gave him the option. If he wants to join, he will. We aren’t going to hold him at gunpoint and force him to do anything.”

Alicia grunts. “Right,” she agrees.

“Besides, he knows exactly how to find us.”

*

Al doesn’t stay long after that. Alicia can’t help but to feel uneasy after Al’s departure. She offers to walk Al to the van now that the sun has set, but Al politely declines and points out that that’s her thing. Al flashes Alicia a smile before she shuts the door and takes off, so maybe they really are okay. Alicia doesn’t know why she’s suddenly worried about where she stands with Al, but she reminds herself that they’re friends and she wants to stay on good terms with her.

She stays up half the night overthinking it. Her mind bounces between worrying that she’s damaged her friendship with Al by showing she doesn’t trust her enough to tell her about the tree even though she was willing to tell a complete stranger and worrying about Wes being out there alone when there’s a predatory group out there killing people who refuse to join them.

When sheer exhaustion finally takes over, Alicia’s sleep is plagued with unpleasant dreams. Not quite nightmares – at least, not the way she sometimes has. She’s relieved when she wakes up to sunlight, though, and she fights her way out of her jacket and dabs at her sweaty forehead with a handkerchief that she pulls out of the glovebox. She digs the butterfly knife out of her jacket pocket, her fingertips brushing against the slip of paper Wes left behind for her. She buttons the pocket up and throws the jacket into the back. Alicia slips out of the truck, shutting the door as quietly as she can manage. She can tell by the sunlight – and the fact that she’s the only one out of their vehicle – that it’s early. She really should invest in a watch.

She doesn’t know why she heads to the field that Morgan designated as his Aikido space. He’s there, like he is every day, practicing Aikido by himself. She approaches him slowly, thumbs hooked into her back pockets. His movements are a lot more graceful than hers probably ever would be, even if she kept at it. Al was right. Defense isn’t for her, especially when it comes to walkers. Morgan stops when he finally catches sight of Alicia, and Alicia manages a faint smile.

“Alicia,” Morgan calls. He closes much of the large gap between them, coming to a stop a respectable distance away from Alicia. “What has you up so early?” he asks.

Alicia shrugs. “Couldn’t fall back to sleep,” she says.

Morgan nods. “You look a little tired still.”

“Aren’t we all?”

“Not sleeping well?” he presses.

“Sometimes,” Alicia concedes. “Though I doubt you could say you sleep well every single night.”

Morgan smiles. “Of course I don’t sleep well. Aikido puts me at ease, though.”

“I know.”

“Is there something you were hoping to talk about?” Morgan asks. “Don’t tell me you’re coming to practice Aikido again.”

“Sorry,” Alicia says. “It’s just – Al and I were planning to try to locate that other group we were warned about by the painter.”

“Wes?”

Alicia hesitates. “Yeah. Him.”

“Alright,” Morgan says. “As long as you’re careful. Keep your distance from those people. They sound hostile.”

“Wes made it sound like they have a permanent base,” Alicia continues. “If we know where it is, we can at least try to avoid that area.”

“I agree,” Morgan says. Then he frowns. “I don’t know if you and Al should go alone, though. If you aren’t killing walkers –”

“I won’t let anything happen to us,” Alicia interrupts. Her face heats up at the sudden outburst, but she meets Morgan’s gaze. “Even if I have to kill walkers or – or another person. I know I haven’t been killing recently, but if it comes to it, I’ll do it.”

Morgan stares at her intently. “Are you sure?” he questions. “Are you sure you’re up to it? It’s been a long time, Alicia.”

“I have to start again sometime,” Alicia mumbles. “I can’t avoid killing them forever.”

“We’ll have your back for as long as you need,” Morgan says.

“I know,” Alicia says. “But I can’t keep being a liability. You don’t have to send anyone else with me and Al. I can step up.”

Morgan nods, but he doesn’t look fully convinced. “Alright,” he agrees. “Keep your walkies on. If you aren’t back before sundown, I’m sending the cavalry after you.”

Alicia cracks a small smile. “If we aren’t back before sundown, we probably need the cavalry, Morgan.”

“Be careful,” he warns.

“We will,” Alicia replies. She turns and walks back to camp. John and June are up, preparing breakfast for the rest of the group, and they both smile as she returns.

“Breakfast?” John offers. He holds out a plate, and Alicia thanks him and takes it. Might as well have a full stomach before they head out in search of some dangerous people. By the time she finishes eating, almost everyone is up, save for Strand and Sarah. Sarah, frankly, is likely sleeping off a hangover, and Strand usually isn’t an early riser when he isn’t forced to be.

“Good morning,” Al greets cheerfully. “Thank you, John,” she adds, accepting her plate of food. She drops down into the chair set up next to Alicia and digs in. Even though Alicia’s done eating, she doesn’t abandon her spot, choosing to wait for Al to finish her breakfast.

“How’d you sleep?” Alicia asks conversationally.

Al swallows her mouthful and answers, “Just fine. You?”

“Yeah, me too,” Alicia lies. The bags under her eyes probably betray her, but Al just nods and continues eating. A hissing sound catches their attention, and Alicia looks in time to catch Wendell washing his breakfast down with a beer.

“I want what he’s having,” Al jokes, motioning toward Wendell with her fork.

“How have we not run out of beer yet?” Alicia grumbles. “With the way those two drink?”

“We keep getting lucky on supply runs,” Al laughs. “You should stop bringing back alcohol.”

Alicia rolls her eyes. “You know what kind of complaints we’d have to listen to if we stopped? Especially from Sarah? Not worth it.”

“Well, make them share,” Al says.

“Please,” Alicia snorts. “As if you don’t have your own secret stash.”

Al grins but doesn’t comment. She finishes her breakfast and grabs Alicia’s plate, returning them both to John. She claps Alicia on the shoulder on her way back. “C’mon,” Al says. “We’ve got at least three places to scope out before sundown. Better get started.”

*

Alicia fidgets with her butterfly knife as Al drives them away from their campsite. Alicia has the map spread out in front of her with three red marks on it. They’re heading for the one closest to them, only about five miles away, and Alicia quietly hopes that’s not Paradise Ridge. Five miles is _way_ too close to a hostile group for comfort.

“You know,” Al says when they’re less than a mile away, “have you considered the idea that maybe Wes lied to us about this other group? We have no real evidence of their existence except for his testimony.”

“You believe the people you interview,” Alicia says flatly. “Why not him?”

“The people I interview usually have no reason to lie. We work out a deal. They get something in exchange for their story.”

“Why would Wes lie?” Alicia questions.

“We cornered him,” Al points out. “We were both armed. He was probably just trying to deflect our attention away from him. Ultimately, we all want to keep ourselves alive as long as possible, right? So why wouldn’t he lie if he thought it’d save him?”

Alicia scoffs. “That seems unlikely.”

Al shrugs. “I’m just saying that it’s a possibility that he made it up.”

Alicia shakes her head. “Did you see how he talked about the way they killed that guy and stole his shit? His reaction? He couldn’t have made that up.”

“We don’t know that,” Al replies. “Don’t be too quick to trust him, Alicia.”

“Have a little faith,” Alicia mutters. “I thought you were supposed to be the optimistic one.”

“Realistic,” Al corrects. She motions toward the map. “Are we close?”

“We’re here,” Alicia announces. There’s nothing that indicates that people live in the area. They drive around the block and still find nothing, so they turn their attention to the second stop. It’s seven miles away from their current position, moving farther away from their campsite, thankfully. “Even if we find nothing,” Alicia finds herself saying, “that doesn’t mean he lied. We just don’t know where to look.”

“I know,” Al says. “I’m not saying definitively that he lied. I’m saying it’s a possibility.”

They come up empty at the second stop, too. Alicia’s conflicted. On one hand, she’s thrilled that this hostile group isn’t too close to their camp. On the other hand, she dreads the idea that a hostile group is out there and they can’t even locate it, especially if the third stop ends up being nothing, too.

They’re halfway to the final stop they planned out when Alicia notices something. “Wait,” Alicia says, reaching over and grabbing onto Al’s arm. “Pull up near that police station. Up ahead. You see it?”

“What’s with all those walkers?” Al questions.

“Someone must be there,” Alicia deduces. She glances over at Al, watches her jaw clench and unclench. “They might need our help. Those walkers are almost inside.”

Al nods and passes the walkie over to Alicia. “Tell Morgan we’re stopping to help someone,” she orders. “Just in case we need support.”

“Right.” Alicia quickly fills Morgan in and sends him their location then hands the walkie back. “We don’t need backup, right?” Alicia asks.

Al’s lips press into a thin line. “There’s at least a hundred walkers here,” she estimates. “I don’t think I can kill them all on my own.”

“You don’t have to kill all of them,” Alicia points out. “Just enough for the people inside to escape and help you kill them.”

Al shakes their head. “There’s no guarantee they’ll help us. And they might be hostile. We have to be careful.”

“Wait,” Alicia blurts, grasping onto Al’s wrist before she can pick the walkie back up. “I – I’ll help you clear them.”

Al’s eyebrows raise. “Are you sure?”

Alicia hesitates. “Yeah,” she says. “Of course.”

“You don’t sound sure. You don’t even have your gun barrel.”

“I don’t need it,” Alicia dismisses. She pulls out the butterfly knife. “I can help.”

Al’s eyes study Alicia’s face for an uncomfortable amount of time before Al asks, “Are you sure you’re ready?”

“I can’t wait forever.”

*

They quickly draw up a plan. Alicia’s job is to lure the walkers away from the police station with the sound of the van’s horn while Al works on picking off what she can in order to clear an exit for the station’s occupants. There’s nothing that indicates how many people might be inside – no vehicles, at least not that they can see – but there has to be someone here, otherwise there wouldn’t be so much interest from the walkers.

“You’re sure this will work?” Alicia asks as Al prepares to leave the van.

“I’m pretty sure,” Al replies. “It’s the best plan we’ve got, right? And it might prevent you from having to kill anything.”

Alicia nods, tries to prevent the doubt she feels from crossing her face. “Be careful,” she says. “Come back if there are too many for you to handle.”

“I’ll be fine,” Al dismisses. She pats the gun holstered at her hip and picks up her trench spike. She cracks her neck, steels herself, then steps out of the van. Alicia watches Al as she presses on the horn intermittently, at least until Al moves out of her sight. The walkers near the back of the pack start to peel away and head for the horn, which is much louder than whatever attracted them to the station to begin with. Alicia’s protected by the van, and she tries to swallow down her nerves as Al continues to stay in the van’s blind spot.

Alicia hears the first walker fist hit the side of the van, and it encourages her to keep pressing on the horn. The herd starts to thin out; walkers start to wander away from the police station and shuffle toward the van, growling and swiping at the air. A walker slams its palm against the passenger’s side window, but after a moment, the hand slides off, and Al’s face appears. The door opens, and Al hauls herself inside, panting. Beads of sweat roll down her face, and she pushes her hair back from her eyes.

“Sorry,” Al gasps. “Have to take a break.”

Alicia nods. “How many do you think are down?”

Al shakes her head. “I don’t know,” she says. She slumps down in the seat, chest continuing to heave with every breath. “Maybe twenty?”

She’s going to need more than a few minutes to recover, Alicia can tell. Alicia chews on her lower lip, mulls over their options. They could call for backup. It’d probably take twenty or so minutes for their friends to arrive. They’d easily wipe out the herd within minutes, especially now that the walkers have dispersed across the yard. Or Alicia could get out there and take her turn, giving Al a chance to rest for a bit. They could switch off until all the walkers are dead. The idea of killing walkers leaves a bad taste in Alicia’s mouth and raises her heartrate. She hasn’t killed anything in months, and the last time she did kill something –

She was certain she was going to die.

_They aren’t radiated_ Alicia reminds herself. _They’re just normal, disgusting walkers. No radiation. You’ve done it thousands of times before. You’re good at this. You can do this._

Al gulps down half a bottle of water and wipes the sweat from her face with the bottom of her shirt as Alicia struggles to make a decision. “I can go back out there,” Al says. “Kill a few more. As long as I take breaks, I can keep going.”

Alicia opens her mouth to argue, but no words come out. In fact, her lower lip trembles, and it’s only then that she realizes her hands are shaking violently. She curls them into fists and nods vigorously as Al watches her.

“Whoever’s inside should be able to get out soon,” Alicia says. “Unless they have someone injured or something.”

“I’m not going inside without backup,” Al warns. “We don’t know what we’re going to find.”

“I know,” Alicia agrees. “We’ll call for help if no one comes out, okay?”

Al nods. “You can lay off on the horn now,” she instructs. “I’m going to kill the walkers closest to the van, and we can go from there.”

“Got it.”

Al slips out again, slaughtering the walkers closest to the van, as promised. Alicia gets herself into a spot that allows her to watch Al’s progress – and to make sure nothing gets too close to Al. For some reason, she asks herself if she’d be tracking Al so closely if it were Strand or Luci in her shoes instead. Or anyone in their group, really. She isn’t sure the answer is yes, and it’s not because Alicia doesn’t trust Al to handle herself.

Then she sees it. Most of the walkers have taken notice of Al in the absence of the horn’s obnoxious sound and are slowly shambling their way over. They’re starting to converge on Al – they’re beginning to block off her only escape route back to the van. Alicia has no way to reach Al, to warn her, if she stays inside the van. Without hesitating, Alicia rushes to the back of the van and throws the doors open. But she should’ve thought this through instead of hurrying to try to get to Al. As Alicia heads onto the steps, a walker immediately pushes toward her, getting its hands on her shirt, forcing Alicia back. She can’t reach her pocket as she struggles to hold the walker off and keep her balance at the same time, and she knows Al is too occupied to be able to come save her ass. She really should’ve stepped out with her knife ready, but it’s been so long since she’s killed, she didn’t even think about the possibility that she’d be attacked before she got away from the van.

She sees the object out of the corner of her eye. The empty scotch bottle that Al had stored away on a shelf right near the door, either so Al could figure out how to put a little ship in there or – or smash it over a walker’s head. And that’s exactly what Alicia plans to do, as long as she can get her hands on that bottle. It’s barely within reach, and Alicia can just touch the cap with her fingertips. She strains, trying to reach the bottle and hold back the walker at the same time. She almost cries with relief when her fingers close around the neck of the bottle, and she wastes no time smashing it over the walker’s head. She doesn’t expect the blow to be enough to kill it, and she’s right. The walker doesn’t react, since it doesn’t feel pain and its brain hasn’t been destroyed. It continues pushing toward Alicia, trying to sink its teeth into her skin as if the bottle didn’t even shatter over its head. She holds what remains of the scotch bottle, the sharpened end of the neck, and Alicia drives it into the walker’s eye socket.

The walker goes limp, and Alicia throws it off the steps, breathing heavily as adrenaline courses through her. Her eyes fall on the immobile walker. She never used to notice their appearance, but this time she does. It’s her first walker kill in months, after all. The walker used to be a man – no, barely. He was young when he died, maybe in his late teens or early twenties. His shirt is almost too faded to be recognizable, but Alicia thinks she makes out the logo of the Dallas Stars hockey team. The shirt looks like it might’ve been green at one point, before the constant exposure to the elements. The walker is dead with a hole in its eye where Alicia had shoved the neck of the bottle through. She doesn’t feel bad, but she doesn’t feel the way she used to feel when she killed walkers. The adrenaline doesn’t feel good this time. In fact, she almost feels…scared.

Alicia has to shake the feeling off fast. She throws the remaining piece of the bottle aside and pushes herself to her feet. She barely holds in a cry as pain shoots through her palm, not even thinking that the shattered glass would end up on the floor of the van. She scrambles upright, clutching onto her wrist as blood starts to pool on her palm. She glances toward the exit, but there aren’t any walkers that warrant her immediate attention. Her hand may be bleeding and throbbing, but she needs to reach Al. It’s like the plane crash. She’s going to have to power through the pain and the blood. She’s going to have new little scars scattered across her palm which is already scarred from the crash.

Five gunshots ring out, and Alicia flinches, instinctively moving to cover her head. She recovers quickly when she realizes the shots weren’t near her and rushes out of the van, frantically searching for Al. She finds her easily, surrounded by the bodies of unmoving walkers. Al seems just as surprised as Alicia by the turn of events, and they both look to the police station for answers. Blood drips from Alicia’s fingertips, and the stinging in her hand draws her attention back to it.

“What happened?” Al asks.

“Glass,” Alicia answers shakily. She examines her palm and plucks a few of the largest shards out, tossing them aside. “I killed a walker with that scotch bottle, so if you want to build a little ship, you’re gonna need another bottle.”

“Alicia, your hand –”

“Forget about it,” Alicia says breathlessly. “It can wait until we’re safe.”

“At least we know someone’s definitely inside,” Al says. She swallows hard. “Whoever it is saved my ass.”

Alicia hates whatever emotion rises in her chest, and she forces it down, turning her attention back to the station. “Time to find out,” she mutters. She pulls the butterfly knife from her pocket finally and flips it open. She doesn’t bother to try to hold it with her injured – unfortunately dominant – hand, resigning herself to killing with her left hand, even if it’ll be harder. She doesn’t have a choice.

“We can’t trust them,” Al reminds, grabbing ahold of Alicia’s shoulder as she takes a step forward.

“They saved your life,” Alicia argues.

“That doesn’t mean they’ll be welcoming.”

Alicia nods and knocks Al’s hand off her shoulder. “Come on. Before we get surrounded.” They jog up to the entrance of the police station, and Al pulls the gun at her hip when they reach the door as Alicia pockets the butterfly knife. There shouldn’t be any walkers inside, and a knife won’t help her against a person with a gun. “How’d they kill those walkers through a closed door?” Alicia wonders aloud.

“They didn’t,” Al answers. She motions off to the side. “There’s an open window. Probably shattered by the walkers.”

“Right.”

“Stay close,” Al says. Alicia nods and, unable to help herself, grabs onto a fistful of the back of Al’s shirt with her uninjured hand. If Al minds, she doesn’t say so. Al tries the doorknob, and it twists easily. She flings it open and steps inside, gun at the ready. Alicia shuts the door behind them and follows as Al starts sweeping the hallway ahead of them. It splits off into different sections, and Al goes straight toward the window that the person would’ve shot out of.

They step into a spacious room that’s been converted into a living space. There’s a stage against one wall, desks pushed and stacked against another wall, and various supplies are stored around the room. There’s a mattress up on the stage and books piled near it. Alicia also notices that there’s one desk and a chair set up in the middle of the room, close to the stage, with a typewriter sitting on top of it next to a stack of blank paper. So someone has definitely been living here, and all signs point to just one person. Unless there are other rooms, Alicia muses.

A gun clicks, and Al whips around, pointing her gun at the person behind them. Alicia’s grip on Al’s shirt tightens, but she refuses to hide behind Al, standing at her side, even if it makes her an easy target. Al aims the gun at the person’s head, finger braced on the trigger. She’s seconds away from pulling it, if necessary, but Alicia’s jaw goes slack. She lets go of Al’s shirt and forces Al to lower her arm, aiming the gun at the floor instead. She steps between Al and Al’s savior.

“Wes?” Alicia questions.

He shifts his weight from foot to foot, not lowering his gun. “Alicia,” he says, tipping his head forward in acknowledgement. After a moment, he adds, “Al.”

“Alicia,” Al hisses. “Move.”

Alicia shakes her head. “You can lower the gun,” she tells Wes. “We aren’t going to hurt you.”

“What are you even doing here?” he demands.

“I’d be a little more grateful, if I were you,” Al snaps. She pushes Alicia aside, but thankfully, she doesn’t raise the gun. “We just drew all those walkers away from your home.”

“I could’ve handled it on my own,” Wes sneers.

Al snorts. “Yeah, right. Like I believe that.”

“I didn’t ask you to help me,” Wes says matter-of-factly. “And I sure as hell didn’t ask you to enter my home.”

“You’re the one that saved me,” Al points out. “We came to make sure whoever was in here was alright.”

“I’m fine,” Wes spits. He motions toward the exit with his gun. “Feel free to leave.”

“We can’t,” Al says. She gingerly takes hold of Alicia’s wrist and shows Wes her bloodied hand. “We have to clean up Alicia’s hand first.”

“And there are still more walkers out there,” Alicia adds. “Way too many for you to take care of on your own.” Wes presses his lips together, seems to weigh his options. “Please, Wes,” Alicia says. “Let us help you.”

After a few long moments pass, he says, “Fine. You can stay for now.”

*

Al pulls the van closer to the entrance in hopes that it’ll help prevent some of the walkers from reaching the front door as Wes boards up the shattered window. The walkers have begun to make their way back toward the police station, especially now that the van’s engine has alerted them, but Al grabs her first aid kit and the walkie and makes it back inside before any walkers get near her. When Al reenters the room Wes has made his home in, Alicia and Wes are seated on the edge of the stage. Wes slowly pours water over Alicia’s hand, and Alicia winces, hand twitching.

“Hey, pretty boy,” Al calls. Alicia and Wes’s heads both snap up. “I can take it from here.”

Wes sets the water bottle beside Alicia. “Be my guest,” he says, sliding off the stage.

“Make sure that window’s secure,” Al commands.

“It’s secure,” he retorts. “I already checked it.”

“Then stay out of my way.”

“Guys,” Alicia cuts in. “Knock it off, please.”

Al sits in the spot Wes previously occupied and flips the first aid kit open. She sterilizes a pair of tweezers and her own hands then carefully begins pulling the remaining shards of glass out of Alicia’s hand. Alicia doesn’t complain, but her muscles go taut, and she finds herself unable to watch as Al works. Al, though, seems unbothered by the blood and the activity of digging glass out of Alicia’s palm.

“I think that’s all of it,” Al murmurs after several minutes.

“Good,” Alicia says through her teeth. “Can you finish this up?”

Al nods and splashes an antiseptic over Alicia’s hand. Al pauses a moment, examining Alicia’s palm. There are the numerous small wounds from the glass shards, but Al’s eyes are locked onto the long, jagged scar left in Alicia’s palm from the plane propeller. Alicia fidgets once she catches onto what Al’s staring at, and her fingers begin to curl in toward her palm. Al pushes them back open and starts winding a bandage around Alicia’s hand, pinning it shut. Their eyes meet, and Al smiles gently.

“All done,” Al says. Alicia nods and rubs at her palm over the bandage.

“Thanks.”

Their eyes stay locked for a few more moments before Wes walks over and stands in front of them. His gun is on display at his hip, alongside his knife. “How’d you find me?” he questions.

“We were driving through,” Alicia answers. “We were looking for Paradise Ridge, actually.” She ignores the sharp warning look Al sends her, watching as Wes’s eyebrows raise. “We just happened to come across this place surrounded by walkers. Thought whoever was inside needed help.”

“I didn’t.”

“How were we supposed to know it was you?” Al asks. “Hmm?”

“You couldn’t have,” Wes admits. “But I didn’t ask for help.”

“You didn’t have to,” Al grunts. “Just shut up and be grateful, okay?”

“You’re the one who should be grateful,” Wes shoots. “That walker almost had its teeth in your neck before I blew its head off.”

Al’s expression sours, and Alicia’s heart sinks as she realizes Al’s lack of objection means Wes is telling the truth. She nearly died out there, and if Wes hadn’t saved her, then Al would’ve died on Alicia’s watch. “Then we’re even,” Al finally says. “We cleared out at least half of those walkers, and you saved my ass.”

“Then you’re free to leave whenever,” Wes says coolly.

Alicia frowns, but Al pipes up with, “That’s going to be easier said than done, buddy.”

“And why’s that?” Wes asks. He crosses his arms over his chest, and Alicia’s eyes go to bulging muscles. If she had no shame, she might start drooling. But she’s not going to act like she’s never seen a man her own age, even though it has been a while. She tears her eyes away, looks to Al instead. That seems like a safer option.

“Those walkers are definitely blocking our exit now,” Al says. “And even if we snuck out the back, we still have to make it to my van, which is surrounded. And since Alicia is injured and I’m too tired to keep killing walkers, we’re going to be here for a little while.”

“Then I’ll kill them all,” Wes snarls.

“Be my guest,” Al says. Her lips twist into a wry smile. “You’ll run out of bullets before you kill them all, and I’m sure more are on their way since you’ve already fired off a few shots. You won’t be able to kill them all with just a knife. You’ll get tired, too, believe it or not. There’s still a lot of walkers out there. Less than before, but I’d say there’s at least fifty left.”

Wes exhales, scratches at the back of his neck. “Fine,” he says. “There’s another room just down the hall you can stay in for tonight. There’s even a mattress. But in the morning, we’re clearing out all those fuckers, and you’re going back to your camp. Is that clear?”

“Very,” Al growls. She gets to her feet, standing with her back straight so she’s just slightly taller than Wes. She offers her hand to Alicia, and Alicia takes it and slides off the stage the few feet to the ground. Wes points in the direction of the other room, and Al leads the way, not releasing Alicia’s hand until they’re out of Wes’s sight.

“We need to work with him to get out of here,” Alicia says.

“We can work with him tomorrow,” Al snaps. She pulls the walkie off her belt. “Try to reach Morgan. Tell him we’re going to be stuck here overnight.”

“Shouldn’t we just ask him to bail us out?” Alicia asks.

Al exhales heavily and pushes her hand through her sweaty hair. They stop walking just outside of the other room. “Don’t tell anyone I said this,” Al says, “but Morgan coming here would just make everything worse. And even if we asked him to send John and June – it would just escalate things, okay? Tell him we’re fine and we’re choosing to stay. Tell him we’re trying to recruit Wes, for all I care. Just don’t let him come out here.”

Before Al can duck into the room, Alicia grabs her wrist and stops her. “Why do you think Morgan would make this worse?”

Their eyes lock, and Al presses her lips together, choosing her words carefully. “He stepped on a landmine,” Al says. Alicia balks and asks herself how she could’ve forgotten so soon. That landmine could’ve blown Morgan, Al, and John to pieces. “He means well,” Al continues, “but he doesn’t always make the best decisions in the field. We can handle this on our own, so we’re going to.”

Alicia nods. “Alright,” she agrees. “I’ll make sure they don’t come and try to rescue us.”

Al cracks a smile and grasps onto Alicia’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

Al heads inside, but Alicia hangs back in the hallway to contact Morgan. She makes it as quick as possible, emphasizing that they’re okay and even throws in the part about trying to convince Wes to join them.

“Are you sure you don’t need assistance?” Morgan asks.

“Positive,” Alicia says. She tries to sound as relaxed as possible, even as little stabbing pains shoot through her palm beneath the bandages. “Al and I can handle this, Morgan. Besides, we don’t want to scare Wes away with reinforcements that we don’t need. He’s already not sure if he can trust us.”

“Okay,” Morgan agrees. “But you know to call as soon as you need help.”

“Of course,” Alicia says. “But we’re fine, and we have a secure place to spend the night.”

“Take it easy,” Morgan suggests. “And check back in tomorrow morning, okay?”

“Got it.”

“Goodnight, Alicia.”

Alicia shuts the walkie off and joins Al in the room. She takes a few moments to absorb her surroundings. The room is smaller than the one Wes has for himself, but it’s also home to less clutter. There’s a queen sized mattress laid out in the middle of the floor, complete with blankets. Against one wall is a bookshelf crammed with books that Al’s currently perusing. There are a few small windows that let in some natural light, and the windows are high enough off the ground to not be of any concern. There’s also a lantern sitting on the only desk in the room against the far wall.

“It’s cozy,” Al comments. She drags her fingertip across the bindings of the books on the shelf. “And there are some interesting titles here.”

“Read one,” Alicia says. “Plenty of time, right?”

Al shrugs. “I suppose.”

“Morgan’s off our back,” Alicia informs her. “He believes in us, I guess.”

Al grins lopsidedly. “Sure he does.”

Alicia lingers near the door, and her eyes fall on the doorknob. “Do I lock it?” she asks.

“Absolutely,” Al answers. “We can’t trust him.”

Alicia hesitates, but she turns the lock, sealing them into the room for the remainder of the afternoon and the night. Al plucks a book off the shelf after careful consideration and lies across the left side of the mattress. It’s only then that it dawns on Alicia that if she wants to sleep tonight, she has to choose between joining Al on the mattress or spending all night on the uncomfortable tile floor. If Al is aware of the dilemma, she doesn’t bring it up.

They have a few hours of daylight left, so at least Alicia doesn’t have to decide yet. But she knows night will fall quickly. It always does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think at this point, I should say I have a feeling this could be a pretty long story. I have big plans.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	5. so she's not your lady?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I'll be updating the tags as things develop, I'd just like to remind and assure everyone that I am, at heart, an Al/Alicia writer, so don't worry about where this story will ultimately end up. The more I write, the more I'm sure it's going to be a fairly long ride. Thanks for sticking with me.

“Why does he have this extra room set up?” Alicia asks. Al hasn’t moved from her spot on the mattress, rapidly making her way through her first book. Al sighs and lays the book open on her chest, twisting to look over at Alicia. Alicia figures the safest place to be is at the desk, given her lack of options, and she leans her arms against the back of the chair, staring over at Al.

“I don’t know,” Al says.

“It’s a little odd, right?” Alicia questions. “The fact that there’s this other room here, ready to go, even though he’s all alone?”

“I guess. The door locks, so I’m not too concerned.”

Al picks her book back up, but Alicia isn’t satisfied. Alicia has sat quietly for the past couple hours, skimming through books or snooping around the room (though she hasn’t found anything exciting besides a box of matches to light the lantern with). The sun is beginning to set, and Alicia knows she can’t spend all night at the desk.

“So maybe he’s not alone,” Alicia muses.

“Sure seems like he’s alone,” Al replies.

“Maybe he wasn’t always alone.”

“Maybe,” Al says. She lowers the book again and makes eye contact with Alicia. “Does it really matter?”

“He won’t join us if he’s waiting for someone out there to get back,” Alicia says.

Al blinks. “You know we aren’t actually trying to recruit him, right?”

Alicia glares. “I am,” she insists.

“You’re wasting your time.”

“Maybe I’m not.”

Al rolls her eyes and refocuses on her book. The chair scrapes against the floor as Alicia stands, startling Al, but Al finally sets the book aside now that Alicia’s up. “What’re you doing?” Al asks.

“It’s almost dark,” Alicia says. “I’m gonna go check that the exits and windows are secure.”

“You let Wes handle that. We’re safe in here.”

“Now you suddenly trust Wes enough to secure the building on his own?”

“I trust that he doesn’t want to die,” Al replies. “Securing the building is in his best interest as well as ours.”

“Well, I’m gonna check anyway,” Alicia insists. Al reaches her before she even gets the door unlocked, grabs her by the arm.

“We don’t know him,” Al reminds.

“If he wanted to kill us, he would have,” Alicia retorts. “All he had to do was let those walkers get you! But he didn’t.”

“So you trust him?”

Alicia presses her lips together. “He saved you,” she says. “So I trust him enough not to kill either of us, at least for right now.”

“It’s a bad idea.”

Alicia relents, lets go of the doorknob. Al releases her arm, watching her warily, but Alicia steps away from the door. She returns to the desk and collects the books she’d been skimming through, returns them to their rightful spots on the bookshelf. She isn’t sure if the books are organized or if they’re randomly placed, but if there is a system, she doesn’t want to mess it up. Just in case there’s someone who’s going to come back to this room.

“I’ll go on watch first,” Al says. Alicia stiffens then turns away from the bookcase to face Al again.

“What?” Alicia says.

“What?” Al echoes. “I said, I’ll go on watch first. You can sleep for a few hours.”

“We don’t have to go on watch,” Alicia argues. “What’s there to look out for?”

Al stares at her in disbelief. “Wes is right out there.”

“I doubt he’ll try anything,” Alicia dismisses. “And the windows are too high up for the walkers to reach, and even if they did reach them, they’re too small for anything to fit through. And if the building is compromised, we’ll hear it or Wes will wake us. We’re perfectly safe here for the night.”

Al’s eye twitches, but she sighs and shakes her head. “Fine,” she says. “Put out the lantern then. I’m going to sleep.”

Alicia does as she’s told and puts out the lantern. It takes a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the new darkness, even though the sun hasn’t totally set yet. She hears Al getting settled on the side of the mattress that she already claimed, hears Al’s boots hit the ground. Alicia waits near the desk until she’s sure she can make it to the mattress without tripping over anything.

“I can move,” Al says gruffly. “If you want to sleep here.”

Alicia hesitates, pressing her fingertips against the desk. “I mean, the mattress is big enough for both of us. Unless you’d rather –”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Al cuts in. “Just stay on your side.”

“Right.”

Alicia kicks off her own boots and makes her way to the empty side of the bed. She holds her breath, for some reason, then lowers herself down, trying to take up as little space as possible. She lies on her back, and after a few minutes pass, she chances rolling her head over to look at Al. Al, too, lies on her back, one arm flung above her head, the other resting across her stomach. She’s breathing pretty evenly, though Alicia doubts she’s asleep already. But who knows? She’s been killing a lot of walkers lately. Maybe sleep comes easily to Al. Maybe she doesn’t have to worry about what she might see when her eyes close.

“It’s hard to sleep when I can hear you thinking.”

“That isn’t possible,” Alicia grumbles.

“Might as well be.”

Alicia grunts, rubbing at the bandages covering her hand. The stabbing pains are mostly gone, replaced with constant soreness. She listens to Al’s breathing, knows she’s literally inches away. If Alicia just reaches out with her fingers, she’ll touch Al’s arm. The thought unnerves her more than it comforts her, even though Alicia usually sleeps better with other people around.

“You need to sleep,” Al says.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Not tired.”

Al chuckles. “How are you not tired? We had a long day.”

“Every day is a long day, Al.”

“You don’t sleep well,” Al guesses.

Alicia’s muscles tense, which might as well answer Al’s question for her. “We’re not talking about this, Al.”

“We’re friends.”

“That doesn’t mean that everything about me is suddenly your business.”

“You wouldn’t be the only one,” Al says gently. “If you don’t sleep well. You’re not alone.”

“I know.”

“You slept fine in the van,” Al says.

“That was different.”

“How?” Al questions. She shifts around, jostling the mattress, and Alicia grimaces. She cradles her hand against her chest, wishing she had some painkillers. Too bad they left the first aid kit out there with Wes.

“It just was,” Alicia says. She hesitates. “I sleep better around people.”

“I’m here.”

Alicia exhales. “I know.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Alicia can feel Al’s eyes on her, even through the darkness, so she puts on a smile. “This mattress is horrible.”

Al laughs, and Alicia can’t help but to join in. “This mattress is better than the floor.”

“Not by much,” Alicia jokes. Her laughter dies as something in her hand tweaks, and she winces against the pain. “Why’d you leave the first aid kit behind?”

“I forgot,” Al says. Alicia feels Al get up, and she fumbles in the dark to get ahold of her. She thinks she grabs a fistful of the bottom of Al’s shirt.

“What are you doing?” Alicia demands.

“I’m going to get it,” Al says.

“You just stopped me from –”

“You don’t have a gun,” Al cuts in. “I do. I’ll retrieve the kit and come right back. I promise.”

Alicia releases Al and allows her to go. True to her word, she comes back quickly. Under a minute, Alicia thinks. Al locks the door behind her and drops the first aid kit to the ground. “Want me to relight the lantern?” Alicia asks.

“No,” Al says. “Not necessary. I can find – got it.” She tosses a bottle of ibuprofen to Alicia. “I even snatched one of his water bottles.”

“Thanks,” Alicia says quietly. She takes the pills, drinks some water. “How’d you manage that?”

Al grins as she reclaims her spot on the mattress. “He was asleep,” she says. “Think you can sleep now?”

“No.”

“Do you mind if I do?”

“No,” Alicia says. “Go ahead.” After a slight pause, she smirks and adds, “Just stay on your side.”

*

Alicia tries to sleep. She lies on her side of the mattress for at least an hour, listens to Al’s even breathing, tries to let herself drop off, too. But she can’t. She jolts awake the first time she almost falls asleep. It’s that weird falling feeling, and it makes her heart race. Luckily, the movement doesn’t disturb Al. She sleeps deeply – too deeply to be safe – but Alicia figures that’s because she’s used to being locked in a tank.

She can’t take it. After the first hour, Alicia gets up. She puts her boots back on and shuffles to the door. She unlocks it, and the clicking sound it makes seems to bounce around the room. But Al continues to breathe evenly, so Alicia opens the door as quietly as possible and slips out. She’s halfway down the hall before she thinks maybe she should’ve snagged Al’s gun, but she touches her hand to her pocket, finds the butterfly knife there, and tells herself it’s enough.

Wes is actually asleep. Alicia didn’t doubt Al, knows there likely would’ve been an argument between her and Wes if he hadn’t been asleep when Al went to get the first aid kit. But seeing him up on that mattress on the stage, fast asleep, is still surprising. Alicia moves slowly, quietly, and stops walking a few feet from the stage.

“Wes,” she calls. She keeps her voice down, doesn’t want to accidentally wake Al, even if she does tend to sleep like the dead. She just hopes the same isn’t true of Wes. “ _Wes_. Wake up.”

This time, he begins to stir. He sits up, groaning, and locates Alicia through the darkness. He fumbles around for a minute then manages to light a lantern of his own. “Alicia?” he whispers.

“Yeah,” she says. She motions toward the stage. “You mind?”

“No,” he says. He swings his legs off the edge and pats the space next to him. She walks over and sits, keeping her hands in her lap. “How’s your hand?” he asks.

“Could be worse,” Alicia answers. “There was some ibuprofen in the first aid kit, so it doesn’t hurt so much anymore.”

“That’s good,” Wes says. He hesitates, scratches at his beard. “What are you doing up? And what are you doing out here? Your lady let you leave the room alone?”

“My – what?” Alicia says. She stifles a laugh into her hand, still concerned about possibly waking Al. “Al’s not – don’t say that.”

Wes smiles. “What? So she’s not your lady?”

“No, not at all. Jesus. We’re friends.”

Wes’s smile widens into a grin, and he nods. “Alright,” he says. “She seems very protective for a friend.”

“She’s just – she’s like that with everyone. You’d learn that if you joined us, you know.”

Wes snorts. “Nice try, Alicia.”

Alicia smiles at him, taps her fingers against her knee. “I had to try.” She pauses. “You’re still welcome, though. If you want to go back with us.”

Wes jabs his thumb in the direction of the spare room. “I don’t think she’d like that very much.”

“She wouldn’t mind. This is what we do.”

“No offense, Alicia, but even if your _friend_ was completely on board with me joining your group, I still think your mission is a bunch of bullshit.”

“Helping people is a bunch of bullshit?”

“Sure is,” Wes confirms.

“Why?”

Wes shakes his head. “Things are different now. You know that. People don’t help each other. They survive.”

“It can be different,” Alicia insists. “It can be better again.”

“You keep believing that,” Wes says. “Let me know how that works out for you.”

Alicia inhales deeply and decides to steer the conversation somewhere else. “I found the note you left behind,” she says.

“You were meant to.”

They both smile, but Alicia stares down at her hands, at the bandage, at the scar etched into her left palm. “I don’t think painting is for me,” Alicia admits. “I tried Aikido, too, but gave it up.”

“Not for you?”

“Not for me.”

“You don’t have to paint,” Wes says. “You could write.”

Alicia laughs and looks over at him. “Is that what that typewriter is for? What do you do? Sit in here all day writing novels?”

“I could if I wanted to,” Wes says. “But I have to find food and water, you know. Keep the walkers at bay. It’s tough work. And since I’ve been painting trees at night, I’m usually too tired to write much.”

“That’s why having a group helps. You can divide up those responsibilities.”

“People are people. They just mess shit up,” Wes dismisses.

“But there’s someone else here, isn’t there?” Alicia questions. “That’s why there’s another room set up. It’s not just you.”

“There’s not anyone else here,” Wes denies. “Not anymore.”

They sit in silence for a few moments. Alicia presses her palms flat against her thighs, waits for him to elaborate. When he doesn’t, she asks, “Who lived here with you?”

She doesn’t expect him to answer. He won’t look at her now, stares off into the distance. “My brother,” he says. “Derek.”

Alicia swallows hard. The next question sticks in her throat. She clears her throat quietly then manages to ask, “What happened to him?”

“He died.”

Alicia could’ve guessed as much. She doesn’t want to pry, though. She barely knows Wes; she shouldn’t try to convince herself that she does, even if they both have a dead brother in common. In spite of his hobby of painting trees, he’s nothing like Jake. She sees that now. But she always knew she’d never replace Jake with someone just like him. She can at least find some comfort in the fact that there are still other people who appreciate the beauty of art in the face of all the world’s ugliness.

“My brother died, too,” Alicia says softly. “His name was Nick. One of the people in my group killed him, actually. Back before we were all a group with a purpose.”

Wes’s back straightens, and now he looks at Alicia again, curiously. “And the person who killed your brother – they’re still alive?”

“Yes.” She figures maybe it’s best not to bring up the fact that she almost killed Charlie – more than once. She really shouldn’t tell him how much she wanted Charlie dead, how long it took for her to start to move past that feeling. He doesn’t need to know that she spent more time than she’s proud of contemplating murdering a child.

“Don’t tell me you helped the person that killed your brother.”

“We helped each other.”

Wes shakes his head. “That’s insane.”

Alicia shrugs. “I thought I’d never forgive her. And I guess maybe some part of me hasn’t, sometimes, but she made a mistake. I know I’ve made my fair share of mistakes, too.”

“And you said your mom – she died too.”

“Yeah.”

Wes hesitates. “Are you the last person left in your family?”

Alicia smiles sadly and nods. “How about you?”

“Yeah.” Wes pauses. “Sucks, doesn’t it?”

Alicia nods. “I never thought I’d be the last one standing.”

“Neither did I. Funny how things happen, though, isn’t it?”

“It’s a bit unlucky, if you ask me.” Alicia inhales deeply. “But at least I still have my friends. I still have people.”

Wes stares at the side of Alicia’s face for a long time, but Alicia sits in silence, massaging her hand over the bandages. “I’ll think about it,” Wes finally says. “Joining you. I’ll think about it, but I’m not making any promises.”

Their eyes meet. Alicia smiles. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he snorts. “I haven’t even done anything besides agree to think about joining your group.”

“Fine, then I mean thank you for not letting Al die out there.”

“I don’t know what got into me.”

“I don’t care,” Alicia says. “You saved her. The reason why doesn’t matter. I just – I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I’d gotten her killed.”

“How could that have been your fault?”

“I should’ve been out there with her, and when I saw that she needed help…I couldn’t get there in time.”

“Well,” Wes says, shifting uncomfortably, “she didn’t die. So there’s nothing to worry about. Unless she wakes up and finds you out here with me. Then she might kill you.”

“I’ll take that as my cue to go,” Alicia says. She slides off the stage and smooths her shirt out. “Thanks for talking to me.”

“Yeah.”

“Goodnight.”

Wes nods, holds his hand up in a wave before Alicia turns and heads back to her room. She manages to get back onto the mattress without waking Al, but she finds herself even more awake than before.

*

One minute, Alicia is wide awake, the next, she finds herself in her house in California. On some level, Alicia knows this isn’t possible. Most of California is long gone, all heavy population centers bombed to shit at the very beginning, including her home. Even if she went back, she would only find rubble where her neighborhood used to be. But here she is, standing in her living room. It’s exactly as she remembers. There are pictures on the wall, pictures of her and Nick as children. Her eyes linger on the photo of her and Nick hugging each other as kids, obviously forced to by their parents. Their dad had taken the picture. Nick’s graduation photo is displayed prominently. His hair is cut short, mostly hidden by the cap. He even mustered up a smile.

There’s a picture of their entire family, including their dad, propped up on the coffee table. Alicia remembers her mom had fretted over whether or not to move it, maybe even hide it away, when she first got together with Travis. She didn’t want to scare him off with a reminder of her dead husband. Alicia made sure that picture stayed where it belonged, made sure her mom wouldn’t hide any proof of their family away. Travis would never be her dad. At least, that was what she thought back when things were normal, back when Travis and Chris were her biggest worry, right alongside college applications. But now, when she sees the picture of her mom and Travis on the mantel, her chest constricts. She remembers watching Travis fall from the helicopter, remembers how she felt to see him decide to end it like that.

She curls her hands into fists, squeezes until her nails dig into the soft, unscarred flesh of her palms. She raises them in front of her to inspect them when she doesn’t feel the typical jagged scarring left behind by the propeller blade. They’re too smooth, soft. Moisturized. There are no calluses, let alone scars. These are the hands of a woman who hasn’t had to kill to survive. They sure as hell aren’t her hands.

A thud from somewhere deeper in the house catches Alicia’s attention, and she lowers her suspiciously soft hands to her sides. She looks around for anything that could serve as a decent weapon and settles for snatching one of the knives out of the knife block in the kitchen. She can’t help herself. She stares up the hallway that leads to their bedrooms and calls, “Mom? Nick? Is that you?”

Something warns her that, no, it’s not her family. It’s something else. Probably something bad. Her hand tightens around the hilt of the kitchen knife, and she hopes it’ll be enough to defend herself. She inches down the hallway, checks the bathroom as she goes by. It’s empty, and so is the guest bedroom that Travis occupies since Alicia and Nick can’t fathom the idea of Travis spending the night in the same room as their mother, even though he moved in months before. When is it? Alicia has no idea, but she knows there’s a calendar somewhere. There’s the more pressing issue of the thud from the back of the house, and Alicia decides she doesn’t care when it is. Maybe it’s 2010, maybe it’s even earlier, but if California is still standing, it’s 2010 at the latest.

She reaches the end of the hall where her bedroom is and hesitates outside the closed door. Her brain warns her that something’s on the other side of it, something she doesn’t want to see. She should turn and run, leave the house. Maybe search for Nick or Madison. Even Travis. She’d take any familiar, friendly face. Instead, she swallows hard, holding the knife at the ready, and she throws the door open. Standing in the middle of the room with his back to her is a man with a crew cut, wearing an olive green button down shirt. The knife falls from her grasp, clatters against the floor, catching Jake Otto’s attention. He turns, and his face lights up.

“Alicia!” he exclaims. He closes the distance between them, lifts her off her feet, spins her around. She clings to him, unable to believe her luck. He’s _here_ , really here, and she forgets all about California being bombed, forgets about Broke Jaw Ranch falling, forgets all about the unease settling into her chest. She’s here with Jake, and that’s all that matters. She gets a chance to speak to him one last time, a chance to say everything she never got to. He sets her back on her feet, holding onto her biceps, and she puts both her hands against his face, feeling the tears slip down her cheeks.

“You’re here,” she whispers.

“I’m here,” he assures her. He smiles, and blood bubbles between his lips, coats his chin, splatters against the floor. His blue eyes turn milky, unfocused, and his grasp on her arms becomes unbreakable. A growl rumbles in the back of his throat, and Alicia doesn’t even have time to scream before his teeth are in her neck, sinking deep, tearing at flesh and muscle. Surely he’s hit her carotid. She can’t breathe through the blood that pours into her throat. She can’t push him away, can’t get free. She hopes she chokes on her own blood quickly, doesn’t want to have to experience being eaten alive for too long. She gives up trying to fend Jake off. She doesn’t have the energy. She can’t breathe. She’s going to die –

She gasps as she returns to consciousness, nearly slamming her head up into Al’s. The lantern floods the room with dim, flickering light. Alicia continues to gasp for air like she was actually choking on her own blood instead of dreaming, and she stares up at Al, hovering over her.

“You alright?” Al asks. She lets go of Alicia’s arms, and Alicia realizes that’s why Jake’s grasp was so unbreakable. Alicia doesn’t trust herself to speak, can already feel the tears stinging her eyes, so she just shakes her head no, and Al seems to get it. Al lowers herself back down on the mattress beside Alicia, laying on her side facing her. She props her head up, and Alicia presses the heels of her hands against her eyes, even though it hurts her injured hand. The last thing she wants to do is let Al see her cry. “What can I do?” Al asks quietly.

“Nothing,” Alicia whispers. Once she’s sure she’s got her emotions under control, she lowers her hands. They tremble, which would be embarrassing any other time, but she hasn’t quite shaken off the nightmare yet. She never knows what’s worse: seeing Jake or seeing what happens to him. Nick told her what happened, told her they tried to amputate his arm after he was bitten, told her it didn’t work. Nick told her Jake turned after the blood loss from the amputation killed him. Nick apologized for not being able to save him, but Alicia knows he did everything he could. Alicia knows Jake couldn’t be saved. 

Alicia holds her left hand above her face, stares at the scar carved into her skin. She runs her fingers over the calluses, reminds herself that this is real. She knows, though, that Jake’s fate was something similar to the one her dreams usually show her. She knows he became one of those _things_ , and knowing it was just his body is no comfort.

“You want to talk about it?” Al asks. Her voice is unbearably gentle, and Alicia flinches like she’s been slapped.

“We aren’t talking about anything,” Alicia says. “And you aren’t going to say anything to anyone.”

Al inhales deeply. “You have my word.”

Alicia starts to lower her hand from above her face, but Al catches it in midair and holds Alicia’s fingers open. Al’s eyes graze over the scar, and she runs her thumb over it. Alicia suppresses a shudder and resists the urge to yank her hand back. She swallows hard, trying to stop her heart from hammering in her throat.

“It’s my fault,” Al says. She taps her thumb against the center of Alicia’s palm. “The scars on your hands. If I hadn’t crashed the plane –”

“We don’t have to talk about the plane, either.”

“I can let most things go,” Al says. “But not the fucking plane.”

“You redeemed yourself,” Alicia grunts. “You fixed it and flew us back without crashing.”

“We got incredibly lucky. I had no business flying anything. I almost did kill Luci the first time around. I’m sure she’s got a scar left over from that pole. June has a very faint scar near her hairline, if you know where to look for it. And you – you sliced your own hands open trying to protect all of us. How do you let that go?”

“By reminding yourself that none of us died,” Alicia says. She pulls her hand away now, unable to take the contact anymore. “Don’t hold my hand.”

Al grins. “That’s not at all what I was doing. Don’t get the wrong idea, Alicia.”

Alicia, in spite of herself, smiles. Al pulls a handkerchief out of her pocket and offers it to Alicia. Alicia takes it and wipes the sweat from her forehead. The bandage around her hand is disgustingly moist, and she hands Al’s handkerchief back and unravels the bandage.

“Wait,” Al says. “Let me see your hand.”

“It’s fine.”

“Let me see.”

Her tone isn’t to be argued with, so Alicia shifts her hand over so Al can look at it. Al rolls toward the edge of the bed and snags the first aid kit. She comes back with an antiseptic wipe and another roll of bandages. Al quickly bandages Alicia’s hand again, and Alicia murmurs a _thank you_.

“You didn’t sleep well,” Al comments, “even though I was here.”

“It’s not like I control when it happens. It’s just generally better when other people are around. Or maybe it’s mostly just Strand and Luci. I don’t know.”

Al frowns. “You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“It’s too much to explain.”

“We have time. I’m more than happy to listen.”

“Yeah, I know you are,” Alicia scoffs. “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing new.”

“Okay,” Al concedes. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”

Alicia thinks about that question. “I don’t know,” she admits. “But I need you to know – I’m sorry that I couldn’t get to you in time. If Wes hadn’t saved you, it would’ve been my fault if you died.”

“It’s okay. That wasn’t your fault.”

“It would’ve been.”

“Good thing Wes was there to save me, then,” Al says. She pauses, eyes searching Alicia’s face. “How do you feel?” she asks. “Now that you’ve killed a walker again.”

“I think that’s what brought on the nightmare,” Alicia says. “But I didn’t have a choice. I don’t – I don’t want to die.” She hates how her voice breaks, hates how it makes Al’s expression soften. She hates how Al looks like she wants to try to comfort her, touch her. Alicia flinches preemptively, expecting Al to reach out, but Al doesn’t move.

“It’ll get better.”

“It’s all I’m good at. Killing things. That’s who I am, who I’ll always be.”

“That isn’t true.”

“It’s true,” Alicia says quietly. She turns her head to look over at Al, but she isn’t ready to fully roll onto her side. Al’s close enough as it is, and if Alicia mimics Al and lays on her side, they’ll be unacceptably close. Sharing the same air. Alicia doesn’t want to get any closer. Just the thought makes her heart pound. “I wasn’t there,” Alicia confesses. “I couldn’t kill when it mattered. When Jake died – I wasn’t there. And it was horrible, from what Nick told me. He should’ve had someone – I should’ve been there, but instead, I was off living one of my worst nightmares.”

“That’s not your fault.”

“He didn’t deserve that.”

“None of them did.”

*

Alicia falls back to sleep by accident, but she doesn’t dream this time. She wakes up hours later, disoriented by the sunlight streaming into the room. And to her horror, she’s not on her side of the bed anymore. She’s encroaching on Al’s side, and Al is very much still there. Alicia’s forehead presses against Al’s arm, and even though Alicia’s face flushes, she’s relieved to find she’s managed to keep most of the rest of her body to herself. Her hand rests on Al’s arm near her face, and she lifts it gently. Slowly, Alicia shifts back onto her side, hoping she’s careful enough not to disturb Al.

“Good morning.”

Well, shit. Guess that doesn’t matter. Alicia doesn’t know if she should be grateful that Al doesn’t bring up the fact that she basically used her arm as a pillow. Maybe she should apologize for not following the one rule they’d set up. Alicia winces, eyes squeezed shut, but she grunts, “Morning.”

“Seems like you slept better.”

“A little bit.”

A book snaps shut, and Al sits up. “Good,” Al says mildly. “How’s your hand feeling?”

Alicia forces herself to open her eyes and looks down at her bandaged hand. She chances flexing her fingers, making a fist. “Still sore,” Alicia admits. “Usable, though.”

Al nods. She gets up to replace the book on the shelf. “Are you going to be ready to help fight our way out of here?” Al asks.

“Of course.”

“It’s cool if you’re not,” Al adds quickly. “Wes and I can handle it.”

“I’m ready,” Alicia insists. She holds in a yawn so Al can’t question her on whether or not she’s gotten enough rest to be ready for a fight. “Once we’re out of here,” Alicia says as she pushes herself to her feet, “are we going to check out the last place Paradise Ridge might be at?”

“Absolutely,” Al says. “We need to know.”

“And if there’s nothing there?”

Al glances toward the door, as if suddenly someone’s going to try to burst in, then says, “I think our friend out there knows a little more about these people than he’s letting on.”

“Why wouldn’t he just tell us?” Alicia questions. She jams her boots on then puts her hands on her hips. “He seemed afraid of them. He’s been following us as an escape plan if they show up. If he knows where they’re at, why wouldn’t he just say so?”

“Maybe he’s one of them.”

Alicia laughs. “That’s ridiculous. Why tip us off if he’s one of them?”

“People have strange motivations sometimes, Alicia.”

Alicia shakes her head. “You spend too much time thinking.”

“Thinking is part of my job, sweetheart. People love to lie.”

Alicia makes a face. “Never call me that again.”

Al grins. “Yeah, we’ll see.”

*

Alicia peers out the window and thinks maybe it’ll be a good day. The dead dispersed overnight, so there’s no conglomeration of walkers at the front door or surrounding the van anymore. They’ve all lost interest, which considerably thinned out the herd. In fact, they might only need to kill ten walkers at the most to get to the van and drive off. Unless they want to help Wes by clearing his front lawn. She can imagine what Al’s response to that proposition will be.

Al startles Alicia when she appears at her side, arms crossed over her chest. “It’s gonna be a good day,” Al declares. “This shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”

“Unless,” Alicia says slowly, “we take the time to clear them out. You know, to help Wes out. This is his home, after all, and we’re on a mission to help people, right?”

Al looks over at her like she’s finally lost her mind, but Al huffs and mutters something that might be, “I suppose we could do that.”

“Only if he wants us to,” Alicia adds.

“He doesn’t strike me as the _accepting help_ type.”

“Maybe he just needs a small push.”

“Well, I’m not going to be the one to push him,” Al says. “Unless we’re talking about pushing him off –”

“That’s not the helping spirit,” Alicia interrupts. Al smirks, and Alicia can’t completely suppress a giggle. “Besides,” Alicia says when she’s got the giggling under control, “what has he ever done to you? Apart from saving your life.”

“We’ll clear the lawn because he saved my life,” Al says. “And then we’re even.”

“He’s not a bad guy,” Alicia says.

“I’m sure he’s wonderful,” Al grumbles. “He paints trees. I’m sure he also writes poetry and shits rainbows.”

Alicia’s eyebrows pull together. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Forget it. Let’s kill some walkers.”

Al is deliberate with where she stands when they step outside into the oppressive Texas heat. Alicia swears she starts sweating instantly, and while she’s concerned with that thought, Al places herself a few feet ahead of Alicia. She raps her trench spike against the side of the van, drawing all the attention to her. The walkers are so spread out, they practically reach Al one at a time, leaving Alicia with nothing to kill unless she wants to actively seek them out. She fidgets with her butterfly knife, and the thought of using it to kill something makes her unreasonably nervous. She doesn’t say anything about how Al kills every last walker on the lawn. She just hopes Al can figure out how grateful she is without Alicia having to verbally express it.

“Let’s go tell your new boyfriend we’ve cleaned up his place,” Al says nonchalantly. She wipes the trench spike off as Alicia splutters, searching for words that won’t come easily.

“He isn’t – why do you think – Al!”

“What?” Al says. “You think I didn’t notice you sneaking off to meet him last night?”

“You – what?”

“Come on,” Al snorts. “You thought I didn’t know?”

“You were asleep,” Alicia argues. “Like, deep in sleep.”

“I really wasn’t,” Al replies. “As much as I love to be deep in sleep, it’s not very practical in this kind of a situation, is it?”

“You faked being asleep,” Alicia says in disbelief.

“It’s one of my skills,” Al says. “But if it makes you feel better, I was asleep until you got up off the mattress. Besides, this place amplifies sound, and your voices were not quiet. So let’s go fill in your boyfriend. I don’t think he’s even up yet.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

“No shame, Alicia.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Alicia repeats, this time through her teeth. “It’s interesting, though,” she continues. “He told me last night that he basically thought you’re my girlfriend.”

Al laughs, loud and hard, and she grins widely when Alicia has the audacity to look offended. “Sorry,” Al says.

“Why is that so funny?”

“I mean, come on,” Al says. “We’re obviously not together.”

“Then why would he think we were?”

Al shrugs and holds the door open for Alicia. “Because I’m obviously a lesbian, and you just happened to be around me? Why don’t you ask him?”

_She seems very protective for a friend._

“Why should I?” Alicia retorts. “It’s none of his business. But he’s not my boyfriend – I don’t even _know_ him.”

“I said that to get under your skin,” Al says. “And I guess it worked. Next time, you shouldn’t try to sneak out to meet a stranger while you’re unarmed.”

“I had my knife.”

“And he sleeps surrounded with guns,” Al points out, motioning toward the mattress on the stage where Wes is still fast asleep. “All that commotion outside didn’t even wake him.”

“He feels safe here.”

Al frowns. “With a hostile group of survivors somewhere nearby? And you don’t think that’s suspicious?”

Alicia hesitates, the word _no_ dying on her lips. “Let’s just tell him his lawn is clear so we can leave,” she mutters. She starts to cross the room, but a loud thud causes Alicia to stop dead in her tracks. She swivels around to face Al, who draws the pistol at her hip and flicks the safety off in one swift motion. Wes bolts upright, fumbling around for the nearest gun before he hops down from the stage.

“What was that?” he demands.

“Hell if I know,” Al says. She waves Alicia over, and Alicia obeys, allowing Al to shield her as Wes joins them. “It came from the back somewhere,” Al says, motioning toward the hall.

“Sounded like a door slamming,” Alicia adds.

“That’s not possible,” Wes says. “I boarded up all the exits except the front.”

“You’re sure?” Al questions.

“Positive,” Wes snaps. “Maybe something just hit the door.”

Al and Alicia exchange a look before Al’s eyes turn to Wes. “Alright,” she says. “Go ahead.”

“Me?”

“It’s your place,” Al says. “And Alicia and I cleared your front lawn of any walkers. So you go first.”

“Whatever, man,” Wes says. Alicia decides it’s best not to correct Al and point out that she didn’t personally kill anything. They’ll consider Al’s debt to Wes paid, especially because Al killed everything. Wes leads the way to the back of the station, Al on his heels and Alicia on hers. Sure enough, when they reach the back, the door is boarded up. So are all the surrounding windows. “Told you,” Wes says. “I bet you just missed a walker, and it walked into the door.”

“Do they normally do that?” Al asks. “Walk straight into closed doors without anything to draw their attention to it?”

“It’s the most likely explanation,” Wes says. He lowers his gun and scratches at the back of his neck. “We can go out there and check.”

“We?” Al snorts. “There’s no _we_ –”

“We’ll help you,” Alicia cuts in. She grabs Al’s wrist to stop her from objecting. Alicia wets her lips with the tip of her tongue. “And then we’ll be on our way.”

“It’s just a fucking walker,” Wes dismisses. He pushes past them to lead the way out the front. “Let’s just kill it and be done.”

Wes walks out the front door with no regard for what might be on the other side and heads around to the back of the building. Alicia has to rush to keep up. Between Wes’s determined stride and Al’s longer legs, she’s in danger of being left behind, left exposed. They reach the back of the police station, which is empty save for Wes’s motorcycle and a chain link fence. There’s no walker. They check the other side of the building and don’t find any walkers there, either.

“No walkers,” Al announces. “So what was that sound?”

“I don’t fucking know,” Wes admits. As Al starts to lead the way back toward the front of the police station, Wes blurts out, “What the fuck?”

“What?” Alicia questions. He kneels on the ground beside his motorcycle, inspecting his slashed tires.

“Who the fuck did this?” Wes demands.

“It wasn’t us, if that’s what you’re implying,” Al says. “That’d be pretty fucking stupid, don’t you think?”

“Well, someone slashed my tires.”

The realization dawns on them. Walkers can’t slash tires. Someone was here recently, and maybe the loud sound wasn’t a slamming door, but a rock or another heavy object hitting the back door to draw them out. Wes seems to process this idea a half a second before Al and Alicia and takes off running for the front. Al and Alicia have to scramble to follow him, and a gunshot rings out before either of them get there. Their view is obstructed by the van, and Alicia’s blood runs cold. She silently hopes that Wes wasn’t on the other end of that gun. Five more shots ring out before they arrive, and Alicia exhales in relief when she sees Wes is the one firing at a receding truck.

“You have to be fucking kidding me,” Wes says in disbelief. The gun in his hand clicks empty, and the truck disappears around a bend. “That fucker slashed my tires, and he stole my –” Wes stops abruptly then continues with, “stole something from me. We need to go after him!”

“We?” Al says, eyebrows raising. “There’s no _we_. Alicia and I are leaving. We appreciate the hospitality, but we cleared your lawn, and now we’re done.”

“Al,” Alicia says quietly.

“No,” Al says sharply. “We told Morgan we’re coming back to camp today, and that’s what we’re going to do.”

“That guy stole something from Wes,” Alicia argues. “And we let him draw us out of the police station. He’ll likely run out of gas long before we do, but we have to get moving.”

“I saved your life,” Wes reminds. “The least you can do is give me a ride.”

Al glares at him, but after exhaling through her nose, she motions toward the back of her van. “Get in,” she says. “But don’t get the idea that you’re suddenly in charge here.”

Wes doesn’t say anything to that, just returns inside to grab his backpack. They speed off in the direction the truck went, and Al forces Wes to decide where and when they turn so she isn’t responsible if this guy slips away. Alicia sits in the back across from Wes as he directs Al. If Al asks later, Alicia will just say she wanted to make sure he didn’t get near her tapes, but in all honesty, she doesn’t know why she chooses to sit closer to Wes than Al.

“What’d he take?” Alicia asks.

Wes hesitates. “Something important to me,” he answers. “I think I hit him before he got into the truck.”

“Hit him?” Alicia asks. “Like…with a bullet?”

Wes nods. “Yeah.”

“So you think you shot him?”

Wes winces but nods again. “I don’t know, though. And if I did hit him, I don’t think it was fatal.”

“Left or right?” Al asks, not bothering to cover the irritation in her voice.

“Left,” Wes decides. “He probably wouldn’t head toward a town.”

“Why not?” Al asks testily.

“You’re more likely to encounter people there,” Wes answers.

“Do you know this guy?” Al demands.

“No,” Wes admits. “But I know his type.”

“And what’s his type?” Alicia asks.

“Thieves,” Wes says. “And I don’t mean people who steal food or water. I mean the people that steal things they don’t need to survive.”

“So we aren’t hunting a guy down to retrieve a box of your favorite granola bars?” Al says wryly.

“Of course not,” Wes scoffs. “He took something I can’t replace.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	6. we can't save everyone

They find the truck, either broken down or simply out of gas, on the side of the road almost an hour later. They’re in the middle of nowhere, at least twenty miles from the police station and probably even farther from their group’s campsite. Al parks the van a few yards away and draws her gun before she steps out. Alicia follows Wes out the back, instinctively sticking close to him since she’s the only person without a gun. Al sends her a funny look, but Alicia just shrugs.

“Be careful,” Al warns. “This guy is probably armed.”

“He’s outnumbered,” Wes retorts. “He’ll attack us if he’s an idiot.”

They approach the truck, but it becomes clear it’s empty and abandoned. “You’re sure this is the truck that drove off from the station?” Alicia asks.

Wes points to multiple spots along the back of the truck. Bullet holes. Five of them. “This is the truck,” Wes says. He yanks the door open and pokes his head inside. He searches the glove box, tears the truck apart, but he comes up emptyhanded. “He’s still got it,” Wes seethes.

“Get back in the van,” Al orders. “He couldn’t have gotten far on foot. Especially not if you did manage to shoot him.”

Wes grunts, maybe in reluctant agreement, and follows Al and Alicia back into the van. Al drives slower up the road, and Wes sits up front with her to scan the surrounding area for any sign of the man who stole his shit. It’s ultimately unnecessary. They find a man limping along the side of the road less than a mile away, carrying nothing but a backpack.

Al puts the van in park and starts to say, “We need a plan –” but Wes has already thrown the back doors open. He takes off running after the man, tackling him, before Al even gets her seatbelt undone.

“Wes!” Alicia shouts. She runs out of the van, armed only with her butterfly knife, leaving Al scrambling to catch up.

“Alicia!” Al yells. Alicia almost turns back, almost waits for Al to catch up, until she sees the man pin Wes to the pavement. He gets his hands around Wes’s throat, and from this distance, he looks pretty damn healthy to Alicia. So maybe Wes didn’t shoot him after all. Wes struggles to fend him off, to stop him from closing off his airway, but the man currently has the upper hand. At least until Alicia reaches them. The man hesitates, looking up to assess the kind of threat she might pose in the seconds before she reaches them, but the butterfly knife is already in her hand. It’s like a reflex. She buries the blade into his neck, and he stops trying to choke the life out of Wes. His eyes widen, and he falls to the side when Wes shoves him off, taking Alicia’s knife with him. Alicia stands, frozen, blood coating her palm. Wes is the one to retrieve the butterfly knife just as Al arrives.

“What the fuck did you do?” Al asks quietly. She stands over the man as blood spurts from his neck, watches as he weakly – futilely – tries to stop the bleeding with his hands. The light slowly leaves his eyes, and his hands fall away. Blood also spreads across the side of his dirty shirt, confirming Wes’s theory that he managed to shoot him, though likely not fatally. Not that it matters. A knife to the neck is pretty goddamn fatal.

“He was killing Wes,” Alicia whispers. She tears her eyes away from the dead man moments before Wes drives the blade of the butterfly knife into the man’s forehead, preventing him from getting up. Alicia stares down at the blood on her hand, and it almost reminds her of when she slashed open her palms fighting walkers with the propeller. The thought makes her feel sick. She’d swung the propeller over and over, killed walker after walker, desperately trying to protect her friends. Her bloodied hand closes into a fist as memories buried even deeper than the plane crash threaten to surface.

“What’d he take from you?” Al asks. Her voice stays scarily low, and her eyes track Wes’s every movement, especially since he hasn’t turned over the butterfly knife yet. He wipes the blade clean on the dead man’s shirt, flips it closed, and offers it up to Alicia. Alicia’s hand trembles when she goes to take it, but Al easily intercepts it, tucking the knife into her shirt pocket for the time being. She produces a handkerchief and hands it to Alicia, motions for her to wipe her hands clean.

Wes rolls the dead man over and frees the backpack from his back, ripping it open. He dumps its contents to the street, goes for the gun that falls out first. The magazine ends up being empty, so Wes ditches the gun and instead picks up a fairly thick stack of paper, held together by three staples.

“What is that?” Al demands.

Wes exhales heavily and stands, flipping through the pages. “It’s my manuscript,” he says.

The handkerchief falls from Alicia’s hands. “I killed someone over a fucking book?” she screams. She grabs two fistfuls of the front of Wes’s shirt, catching him off guard. He stumbles back, Alicia holding onto him, until his back hits a tree.

“No,” Wes struggles to say as Alicia’s fists press into his throat. She still has his shirt in a death grasp, her teeth bared. “You killed him over _my_ book.”

“Like it makes any fucking difference!”

One of Al’s arms closes around Alicia’s waist, and the other works on prying her hands off of Wes. Grunting, Al eventually manages to pull Alicia back and step between her and Wes. “Alright,” Al says loudly, holding onto a handful of Alicia’s shirt. She holds her other arm out, forcing Wes to stay standing with his back against the tree. He breathes heavily, straightens his shirt out, but Alicia’s pretty sure he could’ve fought her off without much trouble. So why didn’t he? “Enough,” Al snaps.

“I – I killed that man,” Alicia breathes. “Over a _book_.”

“His book,” Al says, pointing a finger at Wes. “But, to be fair, the man was trying to choke the life out of him, too. So if it makes you feel better, it was less over a book and more over the fact that he was going to kill this asshole.”

“Thank you,” Wes pipes up.

“You stay quiet,” Al says. “You had us hunt a man down over a book.”

“My book.”

“Whatever,” Al says. “What’s so special about this book, anyway?”

“Besides the fact that it’s my property and my only copy?”

“Yes.”

“None of your business,” Wes snorts. He tosses the manuscript onto the man’s body.

“What’re you doing?” Alicia questions.

“He died for it,” Wes says, shrugging. “He can have it.”

Alicia’s jaw clenches, and she manages to get her hand into Al’s shirt pocket. She pulls the knife free, swinging it open, but Al tracks her movements easily, keeping her body between Alicia and Wes. Al holds her hands up, trying to calm Alicia, but Alicia holds the blade ready.

“You’re gonna kill him?” Al questions. “You’ve already killed this guy for him. Now you’re gonna kill Wes, too? Huh? Is that what you’re really going to do, Alicia? Are you willing to go through me to get to him? Is that worth it?”

Alicia deflates, but she doesn’t lower the blade. “No,” she admits.

“You’re angry,” Al says. “I understand that. I’d be angry, too. In fact, I am angry that this fool made me waste precious diesel to track down this guy over a book that he’s now letting a dead man keep. But I know you. You aren’t going to kill Wes. And you sure as hell aren’t going to go through me to kill him. So put the knife down, please, and let’s talk.”

Alicia flips the blade closed and slides it into her pocket. “There’s nothing to talk about,” Alicia says calmly. “I want him gone.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Wes blurts. “I’m miles from my home. I have no ride, thanks to this idiot. You can’t just leave me out here. Who knows where those other people are at?”

“I have a feeling you know,” Al says. She turns her back to Alicia to confront Wes. “What aren’t you telling us about them, Wes?”

“What? I already told you everything I know,” Wes insists.

“Where is Paradise Ridge?” Al demands.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t?”

“No,” Wes says. “I just know they have to be around this area somewhere.”

“Why?”

He shakes his head. “There must be something they want out here. Otherwise, I don’t know. This place is pretty shitty.”

Al looks over her shoulder at Alicia. Their eyes meet, and Alicia knows exactly what Al is thinking. _The oil fields_. It’s what Logan’s been after. Why not this other group, too? They all need gasoline, and once it’s out, they’ll all need the oil fields. And they might need Clayton’s journals, too, but Morgan has those locked away somewhere.

“You want to leave him here?” Al asks.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure about that?” Al presses.

Alicia hesitates. She hates knowing the old Alicia wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Hell, the old Alicia wouldn’t have thought twice about murdering that man in the first place. At least she did it to save Wes, who also happens to be a man she hardly knows. One short, late night heart to heart doesn’t make you anything. Doesn’t even make you friends.

“We can dump him back at the police station,” Alicia decides. “But then we’re done.”

*

They dump him back at the police station just in time for Al to announce the van is running low on diesel.

“We passed a place on our way here,” Al says. “We can try there.”

“Good luck,” Wes scoffs. “This entire area is bone dry.”

“Then we have to call Morgan,” Al tells Alicia. “Have him send someone out here with fuel.”

“I thought we weren’t involving Morgan in this,” Alicia says.

“No, but we can involve someone else.”

Alicia shakes her head. “Let’s try the place in town,” she says. “If it’s empty, then we can call someone to meet us there. I don’t want to bring anyone to this place.”

“Ouch,” Wes says. Alicia glares at him, and he holds his hands up in surrender and heads for the front door without another word. Alicia watches him disappear inside then motions for Al to get in the van. Alicia takes her spot on the passenger’s side, and as Al starts the engine and drives in the direction of the nearest gas station, Alicia leans forward and snatches the shabby manuscript up from under her seat.

“I don’t know how you managed to take that without getting caught,” Al says.

“I’m good at shit like that,” Alicia mutters. She flips through the pages, skimming over them for the time being, until she reaches the last page. The very last line, separated by a few spaces from the rest of the text, reads: _If you’re reading this, that means you are still here. The End_.

“Are you okay?” Al asks.

“Fine.”

“I’m serious,” Al says. “I know you killed that guy to save Wes’s life, but –”

“I said, I’m fine,” Alicia snaps. Al lets the subject drop. They reach the gas station, and Al gets out to try the pumps. It doesn’t take her long to figure out that there’s no diesel left here. She reclaims her seat behind the wheel and grabs the walkie. “Wait,” Alicia says. “You’re sure you want to call our friends out here to deliver diesel?”

“We won’t even make it back to camp without refilling,” Al points out, “let alone to the third stop and back.”

Alicia nods wearily and runs her fingers through her hair. Right as Al’s about to call Morgan, she’s interrupted by an unfamiliar voice. “Hello? Is there anyone out there?” the woman’s voice asks frantically. Al and Alicia exchange a look, and Al immediately responds.

“We’re out here. We hear you. How can we help?”

“I – I’m surrounded,” the woman says. “I’m in a, um, it’s a convenience store off of Hartwood Road. I don’t know how much longer the door will hold against the dead.”

“Find Hartwood Road on the map,” Al instructs. Alicia unfolds the map and starts searching the surrounding area for the road.

“Got it,” Alicia announces.

“How far are we?”

Alicia frowns. “Maybe…I don’t know. Ten miles? Do we have enough diesel for that?”

Al hesitates. “I don’t know.” She exhales heavily then returns her attention to the walkie. “Are you still there?”

“I’m here,” the woman says.

“What’s your name?” Al asks.

“Janis.”

“Janis,” Al says. “I’m Al. I’m with Alicia.”

“From the video,” Janis says. “I saw it.”

“Yes,” Al confirms. “From the video. We’re about ten miles away. We’re – we’re coming for you, okay? We’re gonna help.”

“You have to hurry,” Janis pleads. “There’s too many. If they break through…I can’t hold them off on my own. I don’t have enough ammo.”

“We’re on our way,” Al assures her. She starts the engine. “We’re coming to help.”

*

“Shit,” Al hisses. “Shit, shit, _shit_. No. Please, don’t –” She groans in frustration and slams her hands against the wheel. The van rolls to a stop, completely out of diesel. Alicia looks to Al in alarm, but Al stares down at her lap, hair hanging in her eyes, hands braced against the wheel.

“How far away are we?” Alicia demands. She scrambles to get the map and locate their current position. “Can we make it on foot?”

Al ignores her and picks the walkie back up. “Janis? How’re you holding up?”

There’s a slight delay, but Janis sounds more panicked than before when she says, “I think the door is going to bust in soon. It won’t hold much longer. There’s nowhere for me to go. Please tell me you’re almost here. I – I only have five bullets left.”

Alicia’s eyes widen. “Don’t,” she whispers, grabbing Al’s hand to stop her from responding. “Don’t tell her to save one bullet.”

“We’re a couple miles away still. At least,” Al says quietly. She shakes her head. “What do I tell her, Alicia?”

“Tell her we’re still coming,” Alicia insists. She unbuckles her seatbelt. “Come on! If we haul ass, we can make it to her.”

“Before the walkers break the door down?”

“Yes!” Alicia shouts. “Come on! Tell her we’re coming!”

Al falters. “Alicia, my tapes –”

“Your _tapes_? That’s what you’re worrying about right now? There’s a woman that’s going to die if we don’t go _now_!”

“I can’t leave my van,” Al says. She presses her lips together, winces. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Alicia snaps. “Help me help this woman!”

“Realistically, Alicia, we won’t reach her in time.”

“No!” Alicia yells, slamming her hand on the dashboard. “I can’t accept that.”

“We can’t save everyone.”

Alicia flinches. “We have to at least _try_.”

“It’s going to take a while to cover the last few miles on foot, even if we miraculously sprinted the entire way,” Al retorts. “We won’t make it.”

“We’re wasting time just sitting here –”

Alicia cuts herself off at the roar of an oncoming engine. Al stiffens and sets the walkie aside in favor of picking up her rifle. She peers at the side mirror, and after a long moment, her eyebrows pull together. Al pops her door open, and she steps out before Alicia can protest.

The motorcycle pulls up alongside the van and comes to a stop. Wes grins at Al and calls, “If you would’ve asked before you dropped me off at the station, I could’ve given you a can of diesel.” He hops off the motorcycle and unloads said can, handing it over to Al. Their eyes lock, and Al accepts the can with a nod.

“Thank you.”

Wes waves her off. “Refuel,” he says. “I’ll meet you at the convenience store.”

*

When the van rolls up, Wes is already working to clear out the walkers. Al rushes out to help him, and it’s not long before the parking lot is littered with walker bodies. Alicia steps out of the van once it’s safe, and Al goes for the door. It falls in the moment she grabs the doorknob.

“That was a close one,” Wes says as Alicia reaches his side. He wipes his blade clean and puts his hands on his hips.

“I thought your tires were slashed,” Alicia says.

“I changed them right away,” Wes says. “Not like I had anything better to do, and I didn’t want to be stranded there. I just finished up when I heard your exchange on the radio.”

Alicia suppresses a smile. “So you came to help us?”

“I knew you wouldn’t find any diesel at that gas station. And I figured you’d run out trying to reach this place.”

Al emerges from the store with Janis in tow. She thanks them all tearfully, shakes all of their hands. It’s surprisingly uncomfortable, especially for Alicia, since she didn’t really do anything except accompany Al.

“This is going to sound kind of weird,” Janis says, swiping at her eyes, “but you guys haven’t happened to come across my brother, have you? His name is Tom.”

Al and Alicia exchange a glance before they both look to Wes. He shrugs. “I haven’t,” Wes answers.

“I’m sorry, but neither have we,” Al says. “Is he missing?”

Janis’s teeth sink into her lower lip. “It’s a long story.”

“I think we have time,” Al says gently. “If you’re willing to tell us, we can sit in the van. We have food. Water.”

Janis nods. “That sounds nice.”

Al leads the way into the van and grabs snacks and water. Al takes the seat next to Janis, leaving Alicia to sit next to Wes. She’s hyper aware of how close she is to him, but he seems completely relaxed, maybe even unaware of the fact that he’s in Alicia’s personal space.

“Tom and I lived at this settlement,” Janis says once she’s finished eating. Alicia’s surprised Al doesn’t pull out her camera. Instead, she hangs onto every word of Janis’s. “It isn’t far from here, but trust me, we were trying to put as much distance between us and the people who live there.”

“Who are they?” Al asks.

Janis looks over at her and smiles wryly. “They call themselves the Pioneers. You know, because they settle everything, everywhere. At least that’s what Ginny says.”

“Ginny?” Al prompts.

“The leader,” Janis explains. “Virginia, but no one really calls her that.”

“And she’s in charge?”

“Completely,” Janis says. “No one questions her authority.”

“Where exactly are they?” Alicia pipes up.

“Their base is at these luxury condominiums,” Janis informs. “Called Paradise Ridge. It’s maybe…I don’t know, fifteen miles from here? Look, Tom and I were trying to get out of Texas. We were trying to go northeast. Supposedly, there’s a settlement out in Virginia, funnily enough. We were fleeing one Virginia for another, but Tom and I got split up a couple days ago. The Pioneers – Ginny – sent scouts after us, and they nearly found us, which forced us to take off in opposite directions. I need to find him.”

“We can help you find Tom,” Alicia assures her. Al sends her a sharp look, and Wes clears his throat.

“I, um, I’m not really with them,” he tells Janis. “I was just…passing through.”

“You still helped me, even though you didn’t have to,” Janis says. “And I appreciate you guys offering to help me find Tom, but the Pioneers – they aren’t to be messed with. They aren’t hunting us for just fleeing. They demoted Tom, and now, I guess we’re both liabilities to them or something. They won’t stop until we’re dead.”

“Or until we stop them,” Alicia says.

“How many of them are there?” Al asks.

Janis shakes her head, wrings her hands in her lap. “I don’t know,” she says softly. “I don’t know if Paradise Ridge is Ginny’s only settlement. She has big plans.”

“Big plans for what?”

Janis’s jaw sets. “Rebuilding the world.”

*

They contact Morgan for the coordinates of their new campsite, which will have to be moved immediately once they arrive since they’ve broadcasted their location to anyone who might be listening. They bring Janis with them. She was too low in the ranks of the Pioneers to have any serious information on them. Tom might have something of use to tell them, if they can find him before the Pioneers get to him. When they reach their group – their _convoy_ , as Morgan has started saying – Janis goes off to meet everyone and get assigned to a vehicle.

“We saved someone today,” Alicia says to Al. Alicia puts her hands on her hips and smiles. “That’s something.”

Al leans back against the outside of the van, exhaling heavily. They stand side by side, looking out at their slowly growing convoy. Al replies, “And we learned more about the Pioneers. We know they’re about twenty miles from here.”

“Janis won’t take us,” Alicia says. “I mean, I wouldn’t risk it if I was in her place.”

“I’d never ask her to do that,” Al says. “Besides, I’m not sure it’s such a good idea to try to find them anymore.”

Alicia frowns. “I don’t know. There’s a lot we don’t know, Al.”

“We know they’re trying to kill Janis and her brother for defecting,” Al says. “She made it sound like they would’ve killed them even if they’d stayed. That’s a good enough indication of what these people are like.”

“Janis said their goal is to rebuild the world,” Alicia says. “What do you think that means?”

Al’s lips part, but she falters. “I don’t know,” she whispers. “Couldn’t even guess.”

Alicia’s eyebrows pull together. “You alright?”

“Perfectly fine.”

“But why kill people?” Alicia presses on. “You need people to rebuild.”

“You only need people until they stop being useful to you,” Al says absently. After a moment, she seems to snap out of a sort of trance and focuses her eyes on Alicia. “At least, I’m sure that’s what this Ginny thinks. Janis described herself and her brother as a liability to the Pioneers. These people – these Pioneers – they sound brutal.”

“So Wes wasn’t lying then,” Alicia muses. “His story was probably true.”

“Most likely.”

“Maybe he can help us then,” Alicia says. “We could ask him,” Alicia says. She grabs onto Al’s arm. “If he tells Janis the story, she might be able to tell us even more about the Pioneers, too. Maybe it’ll jog some of her memories.”

“Good plan,” Al says. “You’re just forgetting one thing: Wes left.”

“He probably went back to the station,” Alicia points out. “We can visit him.”

Al shakes her head. “I’m not going back out there.”

“Then I will.”

“You can’t go alone. Morgan won’t allow it. And neither will I. You’re still barely killing anything.”

“I killed a man today,” Alicia says quietly. “It’s been a long time since I’ve killed a person.”

“You did it to save Wes,” Al says grudgingly. “You shouldn’t feel guilty about that. The man sealed his own fate the moment he put his hands on Wes.”

“Maybe,” Alicia mutters. “I still think we should reach out to him.”

“He left,” Al repeats. “He doesn’t want our help. He doesn’t want to help us. He made that very clear. We need to do what he wants and leave him alone.”

Alicia purses her lips. “Are you worried about the Pioneers?”

“I think we all are. But the part about rebuilding the world – I need to know more.”

“Need?”

Al nods. “I can’t explain it. I just – don’t we all want to think there’ll be people in the future to look back? Why else am I conducting interviews?”

“That doesn’t mean they’re trying to rebuild the right way,” Alicia says. “My mom – she was trying to build a community that was good for everyone. It sounds like the Pioneers are just trying to do whatever benefits them, no matter what the cost.”

“Maybe,” Al says. “But someone has to make sure there’s an inhabitable world in the future, and I don’t think it’s going to be us.”

“Are you agreeing with them?”

Al scoffs. “Hell no. Their methods, from what we can assume, are unacceptably harsh. But their goal – making sure there’s something left for people in the future – it sounds familiar.”

“How?”

Al hesitates. “I met someone once. Said something about ensuring there’s more than stories left once we’re gone.”

Alicia nods, but she doesn’t bother to hide her confusion. “Okay,” she says. “You think they were tied to the Pioneers?”

Al’s jaw clenches, and she shrugs. “I’m not sure.”

*

Alicia pulls out of the nightmare, gasping for air. The face of the man she killed is burned into her mind. The feeling of the knife pushing into his neck, the feeling of blood on her hand – Alicia stares down at her hands, finds nothing but scars. The smaller scars from the glass are still raw, barely healed. She grabs the butterfly knife and throws the door open, needing fresh air to clear her mind. His face won’t go away, though, and that bad memory quickly raises others. The faces of all the people Alicia has killed over the years – whether as an act of mercy or because it was kill or be killed – come back, flash through her mind.

The knife clatters to the pavement, startling Alicia. She doesn’t know why she let it go, but she remembers the people she killed with it as she scoops it back up and jams it into her pocket. Out of sight, out of mind, if only it didn’t weigh heavy in her pocket. She tries to control her breathing, tries to force their faces out of her mind. She doesn’t want to kill people. Not killing walkers – maybe that was an extreme reaction to her experience with the radiated walkers. Maybe that was an irrational decision on her part. But at least walkers aren’t people, not anymore. At least by killing them, she makes the world a safer place for the people who are left.

Alicia’s breath catches in her throat at the sound of an engine in the distance. She finds the flashlight in her truck and starts heading up the road in the direction of the sound. She shines the flashlight over at John, fast asleep on top of his truck instead of being on watch. That probably won’t go over well when Morgan finds him in the morning, but it’s a stroke of luck for Alicia. She comes to a stop near a large tree and aims the beam of light up the road until Wes’s motorcycle comes into view.

“What’re you doing here?” Alicia asks once he kills the engine and dismounts the bike.

“I usually paint,” he says. He shrugs and smile sheepishly, jamming his hands into his pockets. “But actually, I came to see you.”

Alicia nods, swallowing hard. “You have good timing.”

“I’m lucky.”

Alicia manages a shaky smile. She motions toward the tree. “Do you want to paint or can we sit and talk?”

He waits for her to sit first then joins her. They both lean back against the tree, their knees resting against each other’s. “What’re you doing up?” Wes asks.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Alicia mumbles. “It happens sometimes.”

“I know.”

“Why’d you help us?” Alicia blurts. “You knew we’d run out of diesel before we’d reach Janis, but you showed up to help us and then saved Janis, too. Why’d you do it? If I’m remembering right, you think _people are people_ and they _mess shit up_.”

“I owed you,” Wes says simply. “You killed the guy who stole my manuscript and tried to kill me. You saved my life. I heard you on the walkie. I knew you wouldn’t make it to the store in time. I was already fixing my tires, so I went to pay my debt to you.”

“Is that what that was?” Alicia questions. “You paying a debt?”

Wes grins. “I mean, kind of.”

“Sure,” Alicia snorts. “I guess it doesn’t matter why you did it. You saved her life.”

“Maybe you inspired me,” Wes teases.

Alicia laughs. “Shut up,” she says, shoving at his arm. Her joking demeanor slides. “I have it,” she confesses. “Your manuscript. I took it off the dead guy when you weren’t looking.”

“I guess I’m not surprised,” Wes says. “Have you read it?”

“Not really,” Alicia says. “I saw the last line. The one you paint on trees.”

“I wrote it for my brother,” Wes admits. “All he did was read in his spare time. One night, he said it was too bad there weren’t any stories about two brothers fighting walkers and finding the good left in the world or something. So I wrote that up to entertain him. Or keep his spirits up. I don’t know.”

“Did he get to read it?” Alicia asks quietly.

“Oh, yeah,” Wes says. “I honestly didn’t think it was that good, but Derek loved it. Kept it on him at all times. At least until he died. I managed to get it back, and I’ve kept it with me. So when that guy stole it…I don’t know. I would’ve rather had him take my food or guns or whatever.”

“Then why’d you leave it with him after he died?” Alicia questions.

Their eyes meet. “I meant what I said,” Wes says. “The fact that he was willing to die for the manuscript I wrote for my dead brother…he could have it. I know I wouldn’t have died for it. I bet you wouldn’t die for a manuscript, either.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“I know.”

“There are more important things to die for,” Alicia says, mostly to herself. “You can have it back,” Alicia offers. “Your manuscript. You should have it back.”

“Keep it,” Wes says. “I think it’s time for me to let go.”

*

They don’t talk about the man Alicia killed anymore after that. They don’t talk about dead brothers, but they do talk about their lives from before.

“I picked the worst major ever,” Wes laughs. “It was so boring. I really wanted to pursue art, but everyone convinced me that’d be a huge mistake. Said I wouldn’t make any money. Guess it doesn’t matter now.”

“Did you go to school here in Texas?”

“Sure did. What about you?”

Alicia exhales heavily. “California. I was accepted into Berkeley.”

“Fancy,” Wes teases.

“Yeah, but California’s gone now, so I’m sure my acceptance letter was burned up along the way.”

They both laugh. “There are more important things than college now anyway,” Wes says.

“Good thing our survival doesn’t hinge on our ability to earn a degree,” Alicia says, grinning. “What were you majoring in?”

Wes smirks. “Finance.”

“Oh, gross. What’s wrong with you?”

“I made a bad choice, okay?” Wes chuckles. “How about you?”

“I was thinking about biology.”

“I hated science.”

“Because finance is so much better.” They both grin. The sound of a slamming door brings their conversation to an end, and Alicia hurries to get on her feet. “I gotta go back,” she whispers. She hesitates. “I’ll see you soon?”

“I’ll find you.”

“You better.”

He motions toward the campsite. “Go,” he says. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Be careful.”

He nods, and they part ways. Alicia sneaks back into camp and realizes the door was John getting into his truck as Sarah took over watch.

“Well, what’re you doing up so late, little lady?” Sarah questions, nudging her hat farther up her head. At least she doesn’t have a beer in her hand. Just a pack of cigarettes.

“Thought I heard something,” Alicia says. “Went to check it out.” She waves the flashlight around. “Didn’t find anything.”

Sarah nods solemnly. “Okay, well, I’ll make sure to keep my ears wide open. Go on back to bed.”

“Goodnight,” Alicia says. She walks halfway to her truck before the face of the man she killed returns to her mind now that she doesn’t have Wes to talk to and distract her from her thoughts. She changes course and goes to the one place she thinks she can go without having to answer too many questions. She knocks on the back of the van and waits. A minute later, it unlocks and swings open.

“Alicia?” Al yawns. “Something wrong?”

“I can’t sleep,” Alicia says. “You mind?”

Al shakes her head, still yawning, and waves Alicia inside. She motions to her right and says, “Take that side. Lock the door behind you.”

“Thanks.”

Al hums in acknowledgement and drops back down on the seats across the aisle. Alicia sets her butterfly knife and flashlight on the floor and stares over at Al as her eyes adjust to the new darkness. Al seems to have already fallen back to sleep, and Alicia wonders if she’ll even remember letting Alicia in once the sun rises. It’s a hot night, and Al’s only wearing a tank top and underwear.

“Al,” Alicia hisses. “Al!”

“Hmm?” Al grunts.

“You were actually asleep?”

“I’m safe in my van,” she mumbles. “I don’t have to pretend to sleep in case you sneak out.”

“That was a bitch move.”

Al chuckles, a low sound in her throat. “I’d probably be too late if I’d heard gunshots anyway.”

“Wes is a good guy.”

“Okay,” Al breathes out. “Sure. He’s great. Can I go back to sleep?”

*

Alicia wakes up in the van, surprised it’s early enough that Al’s not even up yet. She’s sprawled out on her stomach, one arm hanging off the seats, the other being used as her pillow. It’d be creepy if Alicia watches her sleep, so she averts her eyes and stares up at the ceiling instead. She should get up, leave the van maybe, unless she wants to risk someone catching her on her way out. But then again, does she really care about stupid rumors? If the convoy thinks she has a thing with Al, then who cares? She knows the truth. Al knows the truth. That’s all that really matters.

Al grunts and rolls onto her back, slowly stirring. “Good morning,” Al yawns.

“Hey.”

Al stretches, groaning as her joints pop, and mutters something about getting old. “You alright?” Al asks.

“Yeah. Why?” Alicia questions.

“I mean, you showed up here in the middle of the night claiming you couldn’t sleep,” Al says. She swings her legs off the seats, and Alicia does her best to keep her eyes on Al’s face. “Frankly, I would’ve expected you to go to Luci before me. Hell, even Strand.”

Alicia’s eyebrows pull together. “No,” she says. “They both would’ve asked questions I wouldn’t want to answer.”

A bemused look crosses Al’s face. “Like what?”

“Well, obviously since I wouldn’t want to answer them, I also wouldn’t tell you what those questions would be.”

Al grins and combs her fingers through her messy hair. “Right.”

“Besides, we’ve been spending a lot of time together lately,” Alicia says.

“Is that a bad thing?”

Alicia’s eyes widen as her face heats up. She stumbles over her words trying to explain herself. “I just – I mean, ever since I helped you with the video – we’re friends now, and I thought you were a safer option – you know what I mean.”

Al’s grin broadens, and she gets to her feet. “Yeah. I know. You want breakfast now? Or are you gonna wait for John to cook?”

“I, um, I can wait,” Alicia says. “It’s not a big deal.”

Al nods in acknowledgement and, thankfully, grabs a pair of pants to put on. “You wanna go see if there’s a painting nearby?”

“I doubt there is,” Alicia mumbles. “Why would he bother?”

Al shrugs. “Why did he bother before he met us?”

“I still don’t really know.”

“Yeah, me either.”

Al slides into one of her usual button down shirts but doesn’t button it. She rolls the sleeves to her elbows and gets her boots on before motioning toward the door. Alicia leads the way, surprised that no one but Morgan is awake yet. They head up the road even though Alicia expects to find nothing. She’s pretty sure Wes drove right off after she returned to camp. She considers telling Al she saw him, but Al would probably ask if she asked him to talk to Janis, and honestly, Alicia didn’t even remember the plan she’d drafted up in an attempt to get Al to agree to visit Wes at the station.

“Did you do this?” Al asks, snapping Alicia out of her thoughts.

“Huh?” Alicia says dumbly. Al steps up to the tree, touching her fingertips against its painted surface. If Alicia didn’t know any better, she’d say it’s painted in Berkeley’s colors. Her eyes graze over the painting carefully. For a minute, she feels like she can’t breathe. Maybe in a good way. She moves closer to the tree as Al lowers her hand. Out of the corner of her eye, Alicia see Al watching her, gauging her reaction. The majority of the tree is blue, with the words painted in yellow.

_No one’s gone until they’re gone_

“I didn’t do it,” Alicia whispers.

“So it was Wes?”

Alicia swallows hard and nods, not trusting herself to speak. She searches the tree for any indication that it was him. Maybe a small _W_ somewhere. She even looks to the ground to see if he left her another note. She feels stupid for checking, until she spots it, tucked beneath a rock. She refuses to react, just shifts her foot so it’s hiding the piece of paper from view.

“Can I have a minute?” Alicia asks.

“Yeah,” Al says warily. “You have –”

Alicia pats her pocket, and Al walks back to camp without arguing. Once she’s out of sight, Alicia kicks the rock aside and picks up the piece of paper. She unfolds it eagerly, unsure of what to expect from it.

_This one’s for you._

_– W_

Alicia smiles to herself and slips it into her pocket with the other note. She isn’t too sure how to feel about the painting itself. She’d told him about Berkeley, and it appeared in his work no more than hours later. Still, the tree also serves as a reminder of a future she’ll never have.

*

Alicia’s on her way back to camp when movement out of the corner of her eye sets her on edge. She reaches for the knife, but Morgan steps out of the woods, slightly out of breath and still carrying his Aikido staff.

“Morgan?” Alicia says. She lowers her hand from her pocket. “Are you okay?”

“Just ambushed by a couple of walkers,” he dismisses. “Nothing major. But I’m glad I ran into you. We need to talk.”

“About?”

Morgan exhales through his nose, presses his lips together. “Janis and the Pioneers.”

“You think she’s working with them?”

“No, no,” Morgan says. “Not at all. But she knows where they are. If she can point out their base to us, we can do our best to avoid them.”

“We can’t take her near their base,” Alicia says. “Not if they want her dead.”

“What I mean is, she can point it out on a map,” Morgan corrects. “And then maybe a few of us could do a drive by. Get a feeling of what we’re dealing with. You know, how big their settlement is and what kind of resources they have access to.”

“It sounds like they’ve been out here a lot longer than we have,” Alicia muses, putting her hands on her hips. “If it comes down to it, I think we’ll have to talk about relocating.”

Morgan shakes his head. “That’s not even a thought in my mind right now, Alicia.”

“Because of the oil fields.”

Morgan hesitates in a way that answers the question for Alicia. “In part,” he says firmly. “But we’ve also already put out our video. And we agreed to help Janis look for her brother. And you have a new friend out here, don’t you? Wes?”

Alicia bristles. “I wouldn’t exactly call us friends.”

“Either way. Our roots are here. I don’t want to leave unless we’re forced to.”

Alicia nods, eyes narrowing. “Al and I can do the drive by as planned,” Alicia says. “And we’ll search the surrounding area for Tom, see if we can find anything. I doubt he would’ve gone far without his sister.”

“Okay,” Morgan agrees. “As long as Al’s okay with that.”

“Al’s on board.”

“Then I just have one favor to ask of you.”

*

“How’d he get you to agree to this?” Al grunts, hauling the last box into the back of the van. She shuts the doors and wipes at the beads of sweat on her forehead with her sleeve.

“I wasn’t in the mood to argue,” Alicia mumbles. “Besides, I thought you were all about helping people.”

Al grins. “I have no problem dropping the boxes around the area,” she says.

“But you’re worried.”

“I’m starting to be,” Al admits. “The Pioneers don’t exactly sound…friendly. We’ve already broadcasted our faces to the world on the video we distributed. Now we’re dropping boxes of supplies around in hopes that someone will find them.”

“And what if it’s the Pioneers that finds them instead of another survivor?”

“Exactly.”

Alicia exhales heavily and takes her spot in the passenger’s seat before she says, “I guess it’ll be Morgan’s problem.”

“No, that’ll be everyone’s problem,” Al says. She starts the engine. “And maybe it’s just me, but I’m not looking to get into a war with anyone over a place I don’t particularly care about.”

“What do you mean?” Alicia questions.

Al pauses, taking a moment to look over at Alicia, before she says, “I mean, I don’t care if we help people here in Texas or out in Florida or up in Ohio. For some reason, Morgan is really set on staying here, within spitting distance of the factory we lost and –”

“The oil fields.”

Al winks. “You got it. I’m sure that’s what it all ultimately comes back to.”

“The world ended and somehow everything still revolves around oil, huh?”

Al laughs and starts driving. “Yeah. It’s funny how that works, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

Alicia doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t even bother to tell Al not to call her _sweetheart_. She unfolds the map and looks at the bright red circle on it, roughly twenty miles north of their current campsite. As if they’d somehow forget, Al had written _Paradise Ridge_ next to the circle in all caps. They have ten boxes to drop off first. Al clears her throat, and Alicia tears her eyes away from the red circle that’s causing her heart to beat quicker. She looks over at Al and waits for her to say something, but Al seems to be choosing her words carefully.

“You know, if you’re having problems sleeping, you could, uh, you could always move into the van. If you think that would help.”

Alicia’s lips part, and she folds the map up just to have something to do while she mulls this over. “You…want me to move in?”

“If it’ll help,” Al says quickly. “Just since, you know, we’re friends. Being in that truck alone all the time probably isn’t…helping you.”

Alicia’s touched by the offer, and she has to stop herself from jumping to accept it. “I don’t know,” she says. “You think there’s enough room for both of us in here?”

Al grins, and Alicia can’t help but think maybe Al’s a little nervous. “Please. I spent a lot of time in here with June riding out that hurricane. Plenty of space. But take your time. Think it over.”

“I –” Alicia is quickly cut off by the walkie, crackling to life on Al’s belt.

“Morgan? Morgan, do you copy?” Dwight’s voice says. Alicia and Al exchange a look, but Al holds her arm out, stopping Alicia from grabbing the walkie.

“Hold on,” Al says. “Let’s see if Morgan responds first.”

“Dwight,” Morgan says. “I copy. What’s going on?”

“There’s a situation here at the oil fields,” he answers breathlessly. “Don’t come out here. It’s not worth it. I’m sending everyone else back to you.”

“Dwight, I don’t understand,” Morgan says. Al grips the wheel so tightly, her knuckles go white. Alicia’s about to tell her to turn back – or maybe even to ignore what Dwight said and go straight for the oil fields – but she doubts Al would listen, anyway.

“They’re here,” Dwight replies. “They call themselves the Pioneers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I already have the next chapter written (just needs to be edited), and I'm working my way through the chapter after that, so I'm hoping to have some stuff to keep posting while I'm still on a vacation.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	7. no one's gone

“We have to turn back,” Alicia blurts.

“No,” Al says quietly. “No, this is the perfect opportunity. Morgan will deal with the oil fields. We’re going to drop these boxes and do a drive by of Paradise Ridge. Hopefully most of the Pioneers are distracted at the fields. We might be able to go past their base undetected.”

Alicia wants to argue, but Al has a point. “Are you sure?”

“Trust me,” Al says.

Alicia swallows hard. “I do. But I don’t want anything bad to happen to our friends.”

“Nothing bad will happen,” Al says. It’s not a promise. More like she’s voicing her hopes aloud, because Alicia knows Al would never make a promise she knows she can’t keep. “Morgan will call us back if he can’t handle it,” Al says. She unclips the walkie from her belt and hands it to Alicia. Alicia’s hand shakes when she takes it, and Al’s eyes leave the road momentarily to look her over. “Hey,” Al says. She grasps onto Alicia’s knee. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“Losing the oil fields is okay?” Alicia says. “How are we going to do anything without gasoline? We can’t even flee the goddamn state. We’ll be sitting ducks for the Pioneers.”

“There’s no reason to worry about it yet,” Al says. “One step at a time. Let’s drop off the boxes, drive past Paradise Ridge and see what we can find out. We’ll go from there.”

Alicia nods and stares down at the walkie in her hands, stares at Al’s hand, still resting on her knee. The wounds from the shattered glass look better, and maybe she won’t be left with more scars after all. Or maybe they’ll be very faint, not anything like what the propeller left her with. The van comes to an abrupt stop, startling Alicia, and Al’s hand leaves her knee to kill the engine. Al hops out and retrieves a box from the back. They’re parked outside of a gas station. Al drops a box on the curb, quickly scans their surroundings, then returns to the van.

“One down,” Al says, pulling the door shut. “Nine to go.”

“We’ll go faster if I drop them.”

“Alright.” Al hasn’t started the engine yet. She’s studying Alicia, and Alicia meets her gaze, raises her eyebrows. “Are you okay?” Al asks. “Really? No bullshit, Clark.”

“I just – don’t sleep well,” Alicia mutters. “You know that already. And don’t call me _Clark_. That’s weirder than being called _sweetheart_.”

“You’re sure that’s it?” Al asks. “Sweetheart,” she adds jokingly.

“What else would it be?”

Al shrugs, but the concern in her eyes suggests that she has a few ideas of her own. She finally starts the engine and begins driving again before she says, “You know, you can talk to me.”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

“You know I won’t tell anyone else anything you say to me.”

“I know,” Alicia says warily. “Do you think I’m hiding something?”

“No. Just making sure you know.”

“I know,” Alicia says. “You don’t have to be weird about it.”

Al smiles, and Alicia manages to smile back. Al pulls off the road, and Alicia gets out to drop a box outside a pharmacy. She sets the walkie down as she gets back into the van. Al waits for her to put her seatbelt on before driving off.

“They’re usually about Jake,” Alicia blurts.

“Hmm?”

“The – the nightmares. They’re usually about Jake.”

Al nods. Alicia watches Al out of her peripheral vision, not willing to look at her straight on. “Yeah, I get that,” Al finally says. She waits to turn a corner before she adds, “Mine are usually about my brother.”

“Your…brother?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“You have a brother?”

“Had,” Al corrects. She adjusts her grasp on the steering wheel. They reach their third stop, and Al puts the van in park. She turns to face Alicia, but Alicia has to force herself to meet Al’s eyes. Al smiles wistfully. “He’s dead, too.”

“There’s a lot of dead brothers around here.” Al’s eyebrows pull together, and Alicia explains, “Wes had a brother, too. That’s who lived in the room we stayed overnight in. Wes is the last person left in his family. Like me.”

Al’s smile slides, and her jaw clenches. “I guess we all have that in common,” she mutters. “Stay here. I’ll take care of this one.” Alicia watches as Al drops off the box and kills a walker. She probably should let the subject go when Al comes back, but curiosity gets the better of her.

“You don’t talk about your family,” Alicia says.

“Not usually.”

“Do you…want to?”

Al smirks. “Not particularly.”

“Right.”

“You don’t really want to talk about yours, do you?” Al questions. “Or about Jake, even if that’s what your nightmares center on.”

“Most of them,” Alicia says weakly. “Not all. But I was there right before my mom died. And I was there when Nick died. I didn’t know – I knew it would be the last time I saw my mom and Nick, but I didn’t get to say goodbye to Jake. He just…died.”

“I wasn’t with any of them,” Al says. “My parents. My brother. They all died while I was gone.”

“Gone?”

Al shakes her head. “I was on a job,” she says. “Right before everything really fell apart. Around the time that the bombs dropped on California. Before the media went completely dark. They died in the very beginning, here in Texas.”

“That’s why you came back?”

Al hums. “I had to see it for myself. I had to know they were dead.”

“You found them?”

Al nods. “I should’ve been there, but I was off doing what I do best.”

“Which was?”

Al’s smile is mirthless. “My job. I always put it before everything else. Even people.”

“We all make mistakes.”

“Sure. But some can’t be fixed.”

*

“Can we just take a minute?” Alicia asks. They’re parked outside of the last stop, a gas station only a few miles from Paradise Ridge.

“Yeah,” Al says. “Of course.”

She shuts off the engine, and they both sit there, seatbelts on, no intentions of moving yet. Alicia stares out the windshield, tapping her fingers against her thigh. The walkie rests on the dashboard. It’s been quiet since Dwight last spoke. They aren’t out of range, so Morgan has made the deliberate decision of not recalling them.

“What if they come back right when we get there?” Alicia asks.

“We have no way of knowing when the Pioneers will return.”

“Maybe we should wait until dark,” Alicia suggests. “Park nearby and go on foot.”

“You think that’s safer?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s a possibility.”

Al nods. “Let’s drop the last box. Then we can move somewhere less open and talk it over.”

“I’ve got it.”

Alicia grabs the last box and leaves it somewhere obvious. Those things are heavy, loaded with all kinds of supplies that Morgan deems necessities, and Alicia groans as she straightens up. She hears the dragging of shoes on pavement and whips around, butterfly knife in hand. She flips it open moments before the walker reaches her and misses her intended, usual target. Rather than getting the blade in the eye socket, she gets it between the eyes. The walker starts to fall, but Alicia’s blade sticks, lodged into bone. She acts instinctively. Rather than letting the walker hit the ground and then retrieving her blade, she yanks the blade free as it falls. Alicia stumbles back from the force and sends beads of walker blood splattering across her face.

It isn’t much. Not anything like the radiated walker left her with, but Alicia’s blood runs cold nonetheless. She staggers back, reaching out for leverage, but there’s nothing to hold onto. Her legs give out and she hits the cement, knife clattering beside her, still slick with blood. Alicia struggles to breathe, struggles to figure out if she can taste its blood or not.

_There’s no radiation_ she reminds herself. _It won’t kill you. You’re fine. Get up. GET UP!_

Her mind screams at her to move, but she stays frozen on the ground. Another walker rounds the corner of the gas station and gets its eyes on her, starts shuffling over. If she was panicking before, she’s really panicking now. Her eyes find the butterfly knife within reach, but her arms don’t seem to want to respond to her brain’s frantic commands.

_Pick it up. Pick up the goddamn knife or die. Come on!_

Her fingers finally close around it right as Al reaches the walker and kills it with the trench spike. It falls beside its friend, and Al rushes to Alicia’s side.

“Are you okay?” Al asks breathlessly. The trench spike drops to the cement as Al grabs ahold of Alicia’s shoulders. Alicia’s breaths come fast and shallow, but she can just manage to shake her head no. “Did it get you?” Al asks. Again, Alicia shakes her head no. Then Al’s eyes lock onto the blood splattered on Alicia’s face, and she nods in understanding. “Alright, hang on,” Al says. She slides out of her button down and uses it to wipe the blood off of Alicia’s face. “It’s gone, okay?” Al assures her. She slings the shirt over her shoulder and stands. She holds her hands out, and Alicia grasps onto Al’s forearms. Al hauls her to her feet, but Alicia is still gripped by irrational panic. She has the butterfly knife in a death grip, but Al quickly pries it free. She picks up the trench spike and leads Alicia back to the van.

Al throws her dirtied shirt off to the side, leaving her in a tank top. If Alicia felt like she could breathe, maybe she’d make a joke about Al needing to be careful to avoid a sunburn. But Alicia is having a hard enough time getting enough oxygen as it is without attempting to crack bad jokes. She watches Al dig through her stuff until she comes up with a small mirror. Al flips it open and holds it in front of Alicia’s face.

“No blood,” Al tells her. “And it didn’t get near your mouth. Even if it did, they’re just normal walkers. It can’t hurt you.”

Alicia nods. She knows. She won’t die because of this. But this is exactly why she stopped killing in the first place. She wants to avoid this feeling.

“You’re okay,” Al says. She grasps onto Alicia’s shoulder and sets the mirror beside her. “We’ll wait until dark to check out Paradise Ridge,” Al decides. “Just breathe, okay? It’ll pass.”

Alicia nods. Al’s hand slides off her shoulder, and she goes to get another shirt. Another button down, plain black. This time, she buttons it up to her neck. Al takes a seat on the opposite side as Alicia and waits it out with her, waits until Alicia feels like she can breathe normally again. Al waits until Alicia convinces herself that she’s actually okay, that she isn’t going to die from radiation poisoning. Al doesn’t talk, doesn’t do anything except share the same space as Alicia until the panic passes.

“I think I’m – I’m okay,” Alicia whispers. She uncurls her fists, turns her palms up and inspects the indents left in her skin from her nails.

“You’re okay,” Al agrees. “Is there anything you need?”

“I – no. I don’t think so.”

Al nods. “We’ve got a few hours before the sun will start to set. We’ll need to find a place to hide the van and be able to go on foot. Can you handle this?”

Alicia lifts her eyes from her hands and meets Al’s gaze. “Absolutely.”

*

They find a nice spot to hide the van out of view, less than a mile from Paradise Ridge. They still have some time to kill, but they spend it up front. They eat dinner, make safe conversation. To Alicia, speculating about the oil fields and about the Pioneers is safer talk than her family or nightmares or the panic attacks she occasionally has since the whole plane crash debacle or Wes. She’s not even sure she likes him – not even sure she can be sure when she still barely knows him – but she still doesn’t want to face the judgment she’s pretty sure she’d get from Al if she said anything. Or maybe Al wouldn’t judge her, exactly, but she’d make jokes, and Alicia isn’t in a joking mood.

Besides, the idea of talking to Al about potentially liking someone makes Alicia inexplicably nervous. Like she’s afraid of being interrogated or something, even though Al would probably just listen unless Alicia asked for advice. They’re friends, but not the kind of friends that talk about things like their love lives. Only if the person they love is dead or had disappeared off into the world.

“You ready for this?” Al asks. She loads her gun and shoves it back into its holster at her hip. Alicia watches as she loads her rifle next.

“Yeah,” Alicia says. “But maybe I should –” She cuts herself off as Al holds out the Glock. “Thanks,” Alicia mumbles. She takes the gun, and as much as she doesn’t want to use it, she knows she can’t go anywhere near the Pioneers without one. She knows she’ll use it if she has to. She knows she’s still capable of using it.

“I’ll lead the way,” Al declares. “Kill any walkers in our path. Just stay close.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Alicia grumbles. “I’ll stay close, don’t worry.”

Al grins. She locks up the van, and they begin the trek toward Paradise Ridge. Al kills the few walkers that they do encounter on the way as quietly as she can manage. Alicia helps her drag the bodies off the road and hide them in the surrounding trees. They don’t need to leave a trail of dead walkers for the Pioneers to follow.

They slip into the trees as the gate blocking off Paradise Ridge from the rest of the world comes into view. Alicia frowns as her eyes scan over the property. It’s dark. She doesn’t spot one light source, which she supposes isn’t too strange, but it doesn’t explain why the place kind of gives off the vibe that it’s abandoned.

“Maybe no one’s here,” Alicia whispers.

“You really think they’d all leave their base for the oil fields?”

“It’s possible?”

Al shakes her head. “Possible but incredibly unlikely.”

“How many people do you think could live here?” Alicia asks.

“I don’t know,” Al murmurs. “A good amount. More than we can currently support as a convoy.”

Alicia opens her mouth to reply but cuts herself off when she hears voices coming from up the road. She can’t hear what they’re saying, but there’s more than one, and they’re getting closer. Al grabs Alicia by the arm and pulls her farther into the trees. They wait until the group comes into view. There are four men on foot, all wearing the same style jacket and cowboy hats. They’re hauling another man, dressed nothing like the rest of them. The other men obviously have access to water for bathing, especially in comparison to the man they’re bringing in.

The gate starts to swing open as the final group member appears on horseback. “Get him inside,” the woman commands. Alicia can’t see her from her spot behind the tree – at least, not very well. She can see the horse and the woman’s back as she goes by. Maybe a flash of red hair.

“Just let me go!” the captive man shouts. He tries to fight off his attackers – the Pioneers? – but there are more of them, and they don’t struggle too much to get him beyond the gates. The woman rides in behind them, and the gate swings shut. “She’s gone!” the man yells. “I don’t even know where she went!”

“Oh, but if we know Janis, she’ll coming looking for you,” the woman replies. “Lock him up.”

“It’s Tom,” Alicia whispers.

Al presses her lips together. “I know.”

“What are we going to do?”

Al, for once, is at a loss for words. Alicia can tell she wants to go in there and attempt to rescue Tom. Maybe that’s not the only thing motivating her, but for whatever reason, Al wants to sneak into Paradise Ridge. She doesn’t even have to say it out loud. Alicia just knows.

“We can’t!” Alicia hisses before Al voices her opinion. “We’ll get caught for sure!”

“They’re using him as bait,” Al hisses back.

“We can come back with reinforcements.”

Al scoffs. “You obviously didn’t see the guns they’re carrying. And you know they have more people than we do, but at least right now, they’re distracted at the oil fields. By the time we get back, we’ll be more than outnumbered here.”

Alicia hesitates. “You can’t know that for sure.”

“You want to bet Tom’s life on that?”

*

Alicia will maintain that sneaking into Paradise Ridge is a terrible idea. She follows Al’s lead, mostly because Al seems confident that they can find Tom and escape without being noticed. More than that, though, Al is her only way back to camp, and she doesn’t think she’ll win a fight with Al over the van’s keys. So they sneak in through the stables. Alicia has a hard time taking her eyes away from the horses. She wants to reach out to one of them, but she knows that’s not a good idea. Being here isn’t a good idea.

Alicia’s heart is already pounding when Al grabs her by the arm and yanks her to the ground behind a stack of hay. Al sends Alicia a look that clearly reads _don’t say anything_ , and then Alicia finally hears the footsteps just outside the stable. Al still has a tight grasp on her arm, but Alicia’s afraid to move a muscle, even just to get Al to let go of her. When the footsteps recede after the longest minute of Alicia’s life, Al’s grasp relaxes.

“As your _friend_ ,” Alicia whispers, “I just think you should know this is the stupidest idea you’ve ever had.”

Al grins and brushes her hair out of her eyes. “No,” she replies, keeping her voice low, “sneaking away from the truck stop on my own after dark was the stupidest idea I’ve ever had. Or maybe attempting to fly a plane. But both of those worked out, so this will, too.”

Alicia’s eyes narrow. She grabs Al by the shirt to stop her from leaving. “What are we really doing in here, Al?” Alicia questions. “Don’t tell me this is all only about saving Tom.”

Al exhales heavily and reluctantly sits back down. “Look, Janis said something that seemed kind of familiar, okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“I told you,” Al says. “She said the Pioneers are looking to rebuild the world for the future. It just – I’ve heard something like that before.”

“Where?”

Al hesitates. Her eyes flick toward the exit, but Alicia’s eyes don’t leave her face. Alicia waits. “Isabelle,” Al finally admits. “She was with a group. She didn’t tell me anything about them, but it sounded like their goal was –”

“The same goal the Pioneers have,” Alicia finishes. She swallows hard. “So you think Isabelle is here?” For some reason, the idea of meeting someone Al obviously cared about – no, obviously _liked_ – makes Alicia nervous. She chews on her lower lip, watching the conflicting emotions that dance across Al’s face.

“I don’t know,” Al says.

“But you think it’s possible?”

“Possible? Sure. Likely? I don’t know. I haven’t seen enough yet.”

Alicia nods. “Then let’s go get Tom and see what we can find out along the way.”

Leaving the stables takes them to the condominium’s pool. Al continues to lead the way, rifle raised, and Alicia holds onto her Glock with both hands, hoping against all odds she won’t have to fire it today. She remembers the first time she shot a handgun, remembers how badly the kickback had startled her. That was so long ago. She pulls herself out of the memory and realizes how far she’s gotten behind Al. She rushes to catch up, but she’s still too far away when the walker catches Al off guard and shoves her back into the pool.

Alicia bites back a yell, as if the splash of Al and the walker isn’t enough to draw someone’s attention, and she instinctively aims the Glock at the pool. _Stupid_ , she chastises herself almost immediately. She can’t fire into water and expect to hit the walker instead of Al, let alone hit it in the head. She can see Al struggling to fend it off, and Alicia makes a decision. She drops the Glock to the ground and pulls the butterfly knife out of her pocket. She flips the knife open and launches herself into the pool.

Underwater, the walker holds onto the front of Al’s shirt, trying to drag itself close enough to get its teeth in her. It’s all Al can do to hold it back, and she can’t get her hand on her trench spike, hooked at her belt. If she lets go of the walker, it’ll likely give the thing just enough leverage to get a bite out of her. Alicia makes quick work of the walker, jamming the knife into the back of its skull. She yanks the blade out and, for good measure, sinks it into the walker’s skull one more time, even though it’s already gone still. Alicia gets her blade free, and Al kicks the walker back away from them before they both propel themselves to the surface and gasp for air.

“Thank you,” Al says breathlessly. She runs her hands through her soaked hair, slicks it back from her face.

“Yeah, anytime,” Alicia replies. She sounds nonchalant, which she finds hilarious, because she feels like she could pass out. She swims back as the water starts to turn an ominous dark red, spreading outward from the dead walker. She needs to get out of the water before the blood reaches her. Right before she can make a beeline for the edge of the pool, bright lights turn on overhead, and the sound of someone clapping draws Al and Alicia’s eyes over to the nearest condo.

“Well done,” the woman who’d arrived on horseback says. She stops clapping, puts her hands on her hips, but a smile stays on her face. She’s wearing a cowboy hat over her red hair, but Alicia finds herself staring at the woman’s boots. “Well, come on now,” the woman laughs. “No need to be so shy. After all, you _did_ successfully invade my settlement.” The woman pauses, tilting her head to the side. “At least, you did until right now. So let’s get you out of that water and dried off.”

Alicia and Al stay frozen to the spot, even as the blood spreads closer to them, and Alicia finally manages to tear her eyes away from the woman’s boots and meet Al’s gaze.

“Come on,” Al says quietly. Al swims to the edge first and hauls herself out before leaning over to offer her hand to Alicia. Alicia takes it and allows Al to pull her up. Alicia gathers her wet hair in her hands, tries to squeeze out some of the water, and to her surprise, the redheaded woman holds out a hair tie with a smile. Something in Alicia’s gut cautions her against taking it. Or maybe it’s the suspicious look on Al’s face that deters her, but Alicia swallows down her own suspicions and takes the damn hair tie. She secures her hair back and instinctively shifts closer to Al as two men join the redhead.

“Get their weapons,” the redhead orders. Alicia hands hers over without question even though she can tell Al wants to resist. “Let’s take this party inside, shall we?” the redhead says. Her smile returns. “Oh, gosh! I didn’t even remember to introduce myself! My name’s Virginia, but folks around here call me Ginny. And there’s no need for you to introduce yourselves. I recognize you from that video you put out. Al and Alicia, in the flesh. And in our backup water supply, too.” Ginny waits to see if they’re going to offer up an explanation, watches curiously as Alicia looks to Al, but Al’s jaw just clenches. “Well then, let’s go dry you off first. Then we can sit and chat.”

“Where do you want their weapons, ma’am?” one of the two men asks.

“Leave ‘em at the gate with Chet,” Ginny commands. “And then leave us be. Summon me when the others get back from the oil fields.”

*

Ginny takes them to one of the condos. Alicia can’t help herself from being slightly blown away by the place. Well, Paradise Ridge _is_ a luxury condominium complex, but even so, Alicia can’t fathom living in a place like this. Not anymore. Not after years of being exposed to the elements almost constantly. Even the stadium had its problems. No, living here would be almost like living in the past. Ginny motions to the bathroom right off the entrance and assures them she’ll be waiting for them. Al doesn’t waste any time grabbing Alicia by the wrist and yanking her into the bathroom. Al punches the lock behind them, and Alicia fumbles for the light switch, only mildly surprised when the lights come on.

“This is all your fault!” Alicia blurts. She shoves Al by the chest, but Al barely budges, knocking Alicia’s hands away.

“It could be worse,” Al replies.

“ _How_?”

Al shrugs. “They could’ve killed us already.”

Alicia gapes at her for a long moment before Al pulls her boots off and empties the water in them into the bathtub. “This is a joke,” Alicia says.

“We’ll handle this,” Al assures her. She seems to actually be trying to dry herself off. She finds towels in the cabinet beneath the sink and works on drying her hair.

“She’s going to ask what we’re doing in here,” Alicia says. She crosses her arms over her chest. “What are we going to say? We stumbled across this place and snuck in?”

“Yes,” Al says bluntly. “They can’t fault us for that.”

“They can kill us! They probably _will_ kill us!”

“I’ve lived a good life,” Al dismisses. She cracks a smile, and Alicia momentarily considers strangling her. Just a little bit.

“This isn’t funny!”

“We’re okay,” Al insists. She drops the towel onto the counter and grabs onto Alicia’s shoulders. “If they wanted us dead, they would’ve already killed us. So let’s just calm down. Play nice. Maybe we can get some information out of them.”

“Stop touching me,” Alicia grumbles. Al releases her shoulders, and for some reason, Alicia regrets telling her to stop. The tension immediately comes back to her body, and she remembers why they’re in a bathroom with working lights and running water. “Please tell me you have a secret weapon on you.”

Al cracks a smile. “And where would I be hiding that?”

“I don’t know. Like, at your ankle or…something.”

“They searched us,” Al says. “I don’t have a secret knife taped to my thigh or anything.”

“We’re going out there completely unarmed.”

“Since when do you have a problem with facing a threat unarmed?” Al jokes. “I had to beg you to carry a weapon after that walker nearly got you.”

Alicia makes a face. She opts not to respond and empties the water from her own boots instead. They’re stalling now. Alicia doesn’t know how long Ginny will give them to get themselves together – or to collude, get their story straight.

“Did you hear her mention the oil fields?” Alicia asks.

“Yeah. Sounds like they’ve taken it over.” Al pauses. “Don’t bring that up. Let her do all the talking.”

“Then you answer all her questions,” Alicia snaps. “I didn’t ask for this.”

Al almost looks hurt by that. “I need to know if this is the place.”

“I know,” Alicia says. “But why don’t you just ask her about Isabelle outright?”

“I can’t put her in danger like that.”

Alicia’s lips part as she thinks that statement over. “Why would it put her in danger?”

“I’m not supposed to know about her. Or talk about her.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Al hisses. “I wasn’t lying. I don’t know much about her at all, but we sure as hell are not supposed to know she even exists. I’ve already broken that promise, so I need you to keep her existence a secret, okay?”

“What do I even know about her?” Alicia says. At the desperate look on Al’s face, Alicia inhales sharply and nods. “I won’t breathe a word,” Alicia says. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

Al nods. “Let’s get this over with.”

*

Ginny’s seated on the armchair, leaning back with her feet propped up on the coffee table. She looks way too casual, way too unthreatening, based on what Alicia knows about the Pioneers from Wes and Janis. She motions for Al and Alicia to take a seat on the couch across from her, and they do so without question. There’s a blanket folded over the back of the couch, and the more Alicia looks around, the more she’s certain someone lives here full time. Maybe this is even Ginny’s place.

“You hungry?” Ginny asks.

“No,” Al answers. “We’re fine. Thanks.”

Ginny smiles broadly and shrugs. Again, everything about her demeanor is blindingly casual. Like they’re old friends catching up over drinks instead of…well, what are they? Enemies? Alicia’s eyes lock onto Ginny’s jacket, onto the green patch pinned to her lapel. There’s a key on it. Alicia glances over at Al and clasps her hands together in her lap. In spite of the room the couch offers, they’re seated close enough that their arms rest together. Alicia’s grateful for the contact. It puts her at ease.

“So, I saw your video,” Ginny starts. She sits upright, takes her feet off the table. “I’ll admit, I’m a little disappointed Morgan isn’t with you. He’s quite an interesting fellow, ain’t he?”

“You could say that,” Al says. When Ginny doesn’t immediately follow up, Al says, “But it sounds like you did meet some of our other friends.”

Ginny grins. “Oh, sure. At the oil fields, I presume? Dwight and Daniel. The kids. Good thing there are no more child labor laws, I guess.” She laughs. “I personally wouldn’t choose kids to learn how to turn oil into gasoline, but you guys have your own system, I suppose.”

“That decision wasn’t up to us,” Alicia interjects. She can’t help herself.

“No, of course it wasn’t,” Ginny says. “I bet you Morgan makes all the big decisions, like who’s going to make the gasoline and what not. But you.” She points her finger at Al. “You made the video. And you really had to work to get Morgan to talk, didn’t you?”

“It took some work,” Al grudgingly admits. “And Alicia helped me with the video.”

“Not really,” Alicia says quickly, eyes widening. “I just kind of followed you. Took notes.”

Al smiles at her, and Alicia reminds herself to relax. Ginny, so far, has been pretty affable, even if her overly casual demeanor sticks out like a sore thumb. She’s not holding them at gunpoint. There are no guards surrounding her, though Alicia’s willing to bet they’re stationed right outside of the room. Al’s right. They’re okay. At least, they’re okay for now. As long as Ginny’s talking.

“You guys seem pretty advanced here,” Al observes. “Running water. Electricity.”

“Ah,” Ginny says. “That’s powered by the generators, which need fuel.”

“Which you now have a steady supply of, right?” Al questions.

Ginny’s eyes light up, and she watches Al curiously. “I should’ve figured the journalist would ask all the questions, right? You must not know about what happened at the oil fields, especially since you were out here sneaking into our home. Don’t worry, all your friends are alright. Logan and his buddies…not so much. But don’t concern yourself with that. To answer your question, yes, I suppose we are pretty advanced compared to other settlements. Even yours.”

“We aren’t so much a settlement as a –”

“Convoy?” Ginny supplies. “Right. Look here, we’re both trying to do the same thing. It’s just, no offense, we’re doing it better.”

“How?” Al presses.

Ginny holds her arms out. “We have more people. More resources at our disposal. Permanent settlements in the area. Organization. You guys are disorganized. Morgan is your leader, tentatively, but you lack…discipline. You want to help people. That’s noble of you. We’re doing the same thing, just bigger and better. You’re thinking too small.”

“How are we thinking too small?” Alicia asks. “Isn’t helping one person better than helping none?”

“You’re not seeing it, Alicia,” Ginny says.

“Seeing what?”

“The big picture. What we’re doing here isn’t about today. It’s about tomorrow.”

Al stiffens at Alicia’s side, and Alicia can’t help but to reach over and grasp onto her knee. The action doesn’t evade Ginny, but Ginny merely smiles and quirks her eyebrows upward. Al lays her hand over Alicia’s, looking too troubled to be aware of the way Ginny’s staring them down. Alicia shifts, refusing to take her eyes from Ginny’s face.

“Tomorrow?” Alicia finally says through her teeth.

“Mm-hmm,” Ginny hums. “We’re here to make sure there are people to look back. We’re here to ensure there will be a future for our species. One worth living for. And we are much better equipped to handle a task like that than your little group is. Though, of course, we’re always accepting new members.”

Al’s hand tightens over Alicia’s. “You know we can’t do that,” Al says softly.

“Right,” Ginny says, nodding her approval. “I knew you wouldn’t. Just thought I’d, you know, put it out there. Just in case. But I would be _very_ interested in speaking to Morgan, if he’d be willing. The video really convinced me that this mission was all his idea to start with, am I right?”

They don’t answer. For one, Alicia doesn’t know how to truthfully answer. Al has become more interested in staring Ginny down. “Look,” Al says. “What do you want with us?”

“We’re just talking,” Ginny answers. “I just want to know more about you, as I’m sure you’re dying to learn more about my Pioneers, am I right?”

“Why should we trust you?” Al asks.

“You don’t trust that we’re trying to build a world that’s going to last well beyond this unfortunate phase of human history?” Ginny questions.

“I don’t trust the kind of world you’re attempting to create.”

“And why not?”

Al hesitates. “We’ve heard things.”

“From who?”

“People who have witnessed your practices.”

Ginny grins, chuckling, and she wags her finger at Al. “I bet you’re talking about Janis.”

“You have her brother here,” Alicia blurts. “Even though he wanted to leave.”

“It’s a lot more complicated than you think, Alicia.”

“Then fill us in,” Alicia demands.

“Well, I’m sure you’d both agree I don’t owe you that kind of information. You can think what you want about us. I know what we’re doing is right,” Ginny says. “And I’d love for you to be a part of it, too,” she continues. “With your combat and technology skills…you’d be real useful around here. I know you were talking about not killing in the video, Alicia, but you took out that walker in the pool, so I suppose that’s done?”

“Yes.”

Ginny nods. “Couldn’t have lasted long anyway, right?”

“I guess not.”

The walkie at Ginny’s belt crackles, cutting off her next sentence. “Ma’am, our people are on their way back. They should arrive soon.”

“That’s great,” Ginny replies. “Tell me when they’re at the gate. I’m still entertaining our guests.” She clips the walkie back to her belt and returns her eyes to Alicia. “We saw the trees, too,” Ginny tells her. “They’re all over the area. Most of them are the same. _If you’re reading this, you’re still here_. But there were a couple that we found incredibly interesting. _No one’s gone_ …how’d the rest go?”

“Until they’re gone,” Alicia finishes.

“You did those.”

How Ginny knows that, Alicia has no clue, but she nods, swallowing hard. She doesn’t trust her voice not to break, and she finds herself holding onto Al’s hand even tighter, though Al doesn’t complain. Alicia’s reaction confirms that she did in fact paint those trees – minus the one in Berkeley colors, but she doesn’t say that – and Ginny watches them curiously.

“They’re pretty,” Ginny finally says. “Art is an important part of society, don’t you think?”

The words stick in Alicia’s throat, and she squeezes Al’s hand in a way that Alicia hopes tells her she wants her to answer the question. “Yeah, of course,” Al says warily.

“I guess you guys have some down time, then,” Ginny says.

“Most of those weren’t mine,” Alicia murmurs.

“I figured there was someone else. In your group?”

“No.”

“Hmm. Now that’s interesting.”

“What do you want with us?” Al asks. “Give it to us straight, Ginny.”

Ginny smiles. “You know, I like you, Al. You don’t tolerate bullshit. Neither do we. I just want you to know you two can have a home here. Your other friends, too. We can do this together.”

“And if we don’t accept?” Al asks.

Ginny shrugs. “Then you go on your way. In fact, you can go right now. Think it over and give us a call if you change your mind, okay?” Ginny stands and straightens out her jacket. “Hell, as a gesture of good faith, I’ll send you on your way with Tom, because I know for a fact you’ve got Janis back at your camp. Show your friends what kind of people we are here. Tell them the truth, since I know that’s what you deal in, Al.”

Al stands, pulling Alicia with her, mirroring Ginny’s position. Alicia finally lets go of Al’s hand and hooks her thumbs through her belt loops instead. Al doesn’t even react, too busy studying Ginny, trying to gauge if this is a trap.

“You’re sending us on our way with Tom?” Al asks.

Ginny laughs. “Well, don’t look like you don’t believe me, Al! I’m a pretty decent person, if I do say so myself. I try not to lie, especially not right to someone’s face. So come on. I’ll take you to meet him and get you going. Unless you’d rather have a tour?”

“You’re really trying to recruit us, huh?” Alicia mutters.

Ginny winks at her, and Alicia has to suppress a shudder. She manages a weak, short lasting smile in its place. “I have to try, don’t I?” Ginny says. “I never even thought to use a video to get our message out. I’ll give you guys that one. It’s genius.”

“Thanks,” Al says slowly. They follow Ginny back out to the pool, and she leads them right into the stables. Ginny motions for them to pet the horses, if they’d like. Alicia doesn’t hesitate. She misses being around animals – well, animals that aren’t potentially rabid.

Alicia doesn’t notice Ginny watching her until she says, “Those are some nasty scars, Alicia.”

Alicia jumps and takes a step back from the horse. She looks to her hands and feels her face heat up. “It’s a long story,” Alicia mumbles. She curls her hands into fists.

“Not something you like to talk about?”

“Not at all,” Al says sharply before Alicia has the chance.

“You guys are kind of strange sometimes,” Ginny comments. “If you’d like to ride one of the horses –”

“We’re okay,” Al interrupts. “But we appreciate the hospitality.”

Alicia wants to elbow her, wants to tell her not to be so openly sarcastic, but Ginny full on grins and waves them along. She points out which buildings are housing, which are strategic meeting rooms, which is the armory, which ones are storage areas. She leads them all around Paradise Ridge like she’s got all night – maybe she does. They end up at the gate with Chet and three other Pioneers. Trapped between them is Tom, in handcuffs, but he’s not trying to fight his captors anymore.

“Tommy,” Ginny says loudly. “This here is Al, and this is Alicia. They’re from this new group in the area, and they want to take you to your sister.”

Tom perks up. “Wait. For real?”

“For real,” Ginny confirms. “Boys, let him go.”

Two of the men remove Tom’s handcuffs, but they immediately put their hands to their guns. Tom shows no indication of wanting to fight, though, especially not unarmed. He rubs his wrists and turns his attention to Al and Alicia.

“Why are you trying to help me?” he asks.

“It’s what we do,” Al says. “We can explain it all on the way.”

He nods and looks to Ginny. “You’re really letting me go?”

“I’m letting you go,” Ginny says. “One last thing. Chet.”

Chet brings over all of Al and Alicia’s belongings, including their weapons. Alicia takes the butterfly knife with relief, but she accepts the Glock more reluctantly, jamming it into her waistband. She half considers handing it to Tom, but the Pioneers might see that as a direct threat and decide to kill them all. Al slings her rifle over her shoulder, shoves her handgun into the holster at her hip, and hooks the trench spike back on her belt. Alicia can see what Al’s thinking written on her face. It’s a mixture of _maybe we were wrong about the Pioneers_ and _these bastards are damn good liars_.

“Thank you,” Alicia says suddenly, training her eyes on Ginny. She doesn’t want to thank her. Of course she doesn’t. But she also doesn’t want to push her too much. Let her think Alicia’s being sincere. In a way, she kind of is, if she thinks of it as thanking Ginny for not slaughtering them instead of for being so hospitable.

“Anytime,” Ginny says. “You come back now. We’re just one call away.”

Chet’s radio goes off, saving Alicia from having to either agree or say that there’s no chance in hell they’ll call her. “Get ready to open the gates,” the voice on the radio says. The voice is muddled by static, but every nerve in Alicia’s body is suddenly on alert.

“We’re gonna have to move,” Ginny says, disturbing Alicia’s thought process. “They’re coming in on horseback. Chet, the gates, please.”

The gates swing open as Alicia, Al, and Tom move aside. Something about that voice on the radio doesn’t sit right with Alicia. She grabs onto Al’s arm, suddenly feeling faint. Al looks to her, holds her other hand out as Alicia hits the ground on her knees.

“Hey!” Al shouts. “Alicia!”

Ginny looks to them but has her attention taken away almost immediately when the horses ride in. Alicia chokes as her eyes land on the person on the lead horse. She’s wearing the Pioneers’ getup: the cowboy hat and the boots and jacket. The key patch. Al grasps onto Alicia’s shoulder, still offering her hand, trying to help her back to her feet. At first, Alicia can only point at the horse, and Al tears her gaze away from Alicia and moves it to where she’s pointing.

“Is she alright?” Ginny questions.

“Hold on,” the woman on the lead horse says. She dismounts and joins Ginny at her side. After a moment, she removes her hat and holds it against her chest.

“Oh my God,” Al breathes. Alicia grasps onto a fistful of the front of her shirt, still damp from their adventure in the pool, and Al’s eyes return to Alicia’s face. Without asking, Al hauls Alicia up onto her feet, keeping a strong hold on her shoulder. Alicia doesn’t release Al’s shirt, not even as the tears well in her eyes.

“Well, I don’t believe it!” Ginny exclaims. She claps the woman next to her on the shoulder. “You know, I wondered, but I would’ve never actually thought it.”

The woman brushes her off and steps forward. “Alicia?” she says.

Alicia’s throat constricts, and she barely manages to get out just one word. “Mom?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on chapter 10 as of right now, so I just have to edit 8 and 9, and they'll be out over the course of the next few days as well! My vacation comes to an end in a few days, so I'll be going back to work and starting to handle my stuff for law school in the fall, which means updates could become pretty sporadic. One way or another, though, I will see this story through to its conclusion (which might be a ways off - this thing is getting long). Thanks for sticking with me.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	8. it was a long time ago

“Madison?” Al says in disbelief.

Madison’s eyes leave her daughter’s face and land on Al. For a moment, her expression sours, but it bounces back to something more neutral quickly. “Al,” Madison greets. “Didn’t know you knew my name. Funny seeing you here with my child.”

“Funny seeing you at all,” Al says faintly. “We thought you were dead.”

“I thought I was dead for a minute there,” Madison laughs. She approaches them slowly, carefully, as if they’re a pack of rabid raccoons. “But we have plenty of time to catch up later,” she assures them. She motions for Al to move aside, and Al lets go of Alicia. But Alicia doesn’t let go of her fistful of Al’s shirt at first. When Al’s hand covers hers, though, Alicia looks up, trying desperately to keep her tears from falling. Alicia uncurls her fist and looks back to her mother, very much alive.

“I’m not the last Clark,” Alicia murmurs. She doesn’t think anyone hears her, but it doesn’t matter. She takes the step forward required to launch herself into her mother’s arms. She holds on, thinks she could hold on forever now that she’s lived for over a year thinking her entire family was dead. “I thought you were gone,” Alicia whispers.

“I know,” Madison says. “But I’m right here. I knew you were out there somewhere, and I knew I’d find you eventually.”

The weight of this moment doesn’t hit Alicia right away. Al, though, knows what’s going on and can’t ignore it. Madison is with the Pioneers. She’s wearing the key patch. And if what they’ve heard about the Pioneers is true, then Madison is part of it. Madison has to pull back from the embrace first, as Alicia shows no sign of letting go.

“Of course you’d find my daughter somehow,” Madison says to Al. She keeps a hand on Alicia’s shoulder, and Al manages a smile.

“It’s a talent.”

Madison nods. “Thank you for keeping her safe.”

“It’s not just us, Mom,” Alicia cuts in. “We have a group.”

Madison thinks this over. “You were on your way back to them, right?”

“Yeah.”

“With Tom.”

Alicia winces. “Yeah. But I – I can stay.”

“Alicia,” Al warns.

“I can’t just leave her again!” Alicia shouts.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Madison says. “Let’s calm down. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You need to head back to your friends, but you can call me over the radio. We can meet up somewhere soon. Fill each other in. Then we’ll go from there, okay?”

After a moment, Alicia nods. “Okay,” she agrees. She wipes the tears from her face with the back of her hand. “But I just got you back. I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t,” Madison promises. “Besides, you know where to find me now.”

*

The ride back to camp is uncomfortably silent. There are too many things going on at once when they arrive. Tom tearfully reunites with Janis. Al fills Morgan in on what they know about the Pioneers, and she fills Strand and Luci in on Madison still being alive. Morgan, in return, fills Al in on the state of the oil fields. Alicia can’t handle this stuff. Not now. She waits in the back of the van, trying to wrangle her emotions into check. She waits for Al to get back so she can start trying to make sense of everything.

The van doors open, startling Alicia, but it’s just Al. “Can I stay here?” Alicia asks. “I can’t – I don’t want to be –”

“Alicia,” Al says. She shuts the doors, and a gentle smile crosses her face. “I told you that you could move in. Of course you can stay.”

That one, small kindness is enough to cause Alicia to burst into tears. Al startles but easily drops down onto the seats beside Alicia. Alicia tries to wave her off, but Al ignores her, wrapping an arm around Alicia’s shoulders, and Alicia immediately falls into her. Al doesn’t try to say anything, which Alicia appreciates. She knows it’s stupid. She shouldn’t be crying because her mother’s alive. But after everything she did because she thought the Vultures killed her mom – and now it turns out her mom is _alive_ – it’s too much.

Alicia pulls it together as quickly as she can, swiping at her eyes. She lifts her head from Al’s shoulder and resists the urge to scoot away. It’s embarrassing, falling apart like that, even if Al is her friend. “So?” Alicia says gruffly. “Aren’t you going to fill me in?”

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“I cried, and now it’s over,” Alicia says. She clears her throat and accepts the water bottle Al holds out. “So yeah, fill me in.”

A smile flickers on Al’s face. “The Pioneers ambushed the oil fields,” Al says. “Led by Ginny, but Madison took over when Ginny returned to Paradise Ridge with Tom. All of our people are back here, including Daniel, but –” Al flinches when Alicia looks at her. “Dwight is trapped out there. He volunteered to stay to teach the Pioneers how to make gasoline so everyone else could go. Obviously, Morgan wants to get him back.”

“Okay. Ginny said Logan –”

“Logan is dead,” Al confirms. “The Pioneers killed him and all his people for failing to take the fields from us.”

“What else?”

“Strand and Luci want to see Madison.”

“Well, that’s going to be a little complicated now, don’t you think?” Alicia mutters.

“You’re her kid,” Al says. “She’ll do anything to see you.”

“She might not be able to,” Alicia says. “The Pioneers – she’s _with_ them.”

“I know. But we might be able to meet somewhere…neutral.”

“What?” Alicia says blankly.

“Not in Pioneer territory but not in our territory, either. Somewhere in the middle. Look, we can call them and ask. There’s no harm –”

“There could be harm,” Alicia argues. “And now Ginny knows my weakness.”

Al presses her lips together. “We’ll figure it out,” she says. “You’ll get to see her again. And it doesn’t matter if Ginny knows your weakness. She already singled out Morgan as our leader. She’ll be focused on him. You’re safe.”

Alicia nods and rubs at her eyes. God, jumping into the Pioneers’ pool was just hours ago, but it feels like a lifetime has gone by since. She’s exhausted. “Let me get all my things,” Alicia says. “I’m sure they’ll need my truck now that we have more people than normal.”

“You’re…moving in?”

“I’m moving in,” Alicia grunts. “Try not to get too excited.”

Al grins. “Do you need help with all your things?”

*

By the time Alicia’s settled with all her things in the van, there isn’t much night left. She takes a nap, but the rest of the day slips away uneventfully. Morgan’s still dealing with the aftermath of the oil fields, making plans with Daniel, trying to get the kids settled. Tom and Janis are spreading the word through the convoy about the Pioneers at the same time that the word about Madison being alive and with the Pioneers spreads. Alicia swears Janis and Tom are a little more cautious around her now that they know Madison is her mom, but she’s also extremely tired, so maybe she’s imagining it.

Alicia skips dinner. She knows she shouldn’t, but she can’t bear the thought of sitting in a circle with all these people and pretending to be happy. She returns to the van and lays down, falling asleep almost instantly. She opens her eyes in the parking lot of the stadium. She watches an SUV speed away, leaving her at the entrance, surrounded by walkers that have been lit on fire.

She’s unarmed. The walkers are slowly closing in on her. Even if she _was_ armed, the walkers are on fucking fire.

“Alicia.”

Alicia whips around in time to see Madison behind her, holding out her hand. In relief, Alicia takes it, but her hand immediately erupts into flames, and so does Madison. That’s right. Madison is dead. Probably eaten alive then burned alive? Burned and then eaten? But wait. Madison’s not dead. She’s alive. So this nightmare makes no sense. The walkers still close in on Alicia, and she can’t break her dead-not-dead mother’s grasp on her hand. And she’s not armed. The fire spreads rapidly up her arm, burning its way along, and as Alicia screams, she jolts back into reality.

She swings instinctively, sensing the presence of someone – or something – and her fist connects with something solid. A walker? She’s too panicked to tell at first, but the person and/or walker grunts and stumbles back, catching themselves against the other side of the van. Light floods the van. Alicia scrambles to sit up, chest heaving with each breath, and her eyes fall on Al, clutching her jaw.

“Shit,” Alicia breathes. “Al, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Al says through her teeth. She tests out her jaw. “I think it’s fine. It’ll just bruise.”

“What can I do?” Alicia frets.

“Keep your fists to yourself?” Al jokes. “Must’ve been one hell of a nightmare.”

Alicia flinches. “Kind of.”

“Screaming _and_ waking up swinging? You punched me in the face. I think you owe me some kind of an explanation.”

Alicia nods. She slides over and motions for Al to take a seat beside her. Al does, still rubbing at her jaw. “We told you how the stadium fell,” Alicia says.

“I remember.”

“My mom herded the walkers, some of which were on fire, into the stadium, leaving us to drive off. She died, except she didn’t, but I didn’t know that. So I hunted down the Vultures and almost killed Charlie. I don’t know. The nightmare was about the stadium. It’s one of the worst days of my life.” Alicia shakes her head. “But I don’t know what to make of it anymore now that my mom’s alive.”

Al nods. “You’d accepted the fact that she was dead, but now she isn’t,” Al says. “It’s a lot to adjust to right away.”

“I’m so sorry for punching you,” Alicia blurts.

Al grins and covers up a wince for Alicia’s sake. Alicia can already see the bruise forming on Al’s jaw where she’d accidentally clipped her. “I should’ve kept my distance,” Al says. “Guess I learned my lesson.”

“I mean, you tried to wake me and I repaid you by decking you,” Alicia says weakly. “How can I make it up to you?”

Al laughs. “You don’t have to make anything up to me.”

“That bruise is going to be nasty.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“Should I ask?”

Al chuckles and runs her hand through her hair wearily. “No. Please don’t.”

There’s a pause before Alicia says, “You think we should take Strand and Luci to meet up with my mom?”

“We?”

Alicia hesitates. “Well…you’re gonna go, right?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes.”

Al nods. “I guess I should follow up with her, since the last interview I have about her claimed she was dead.”

“That wasn’t our fault.”

“I know.”

“We’ll fix it,” Alicia says. “I guess I owe you for punching you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Al says. She stands, and Alicia resists the urge to reach out and stop her from moving to the other side of the van.

“Wait,” Alicia says.

Al raises her eyebrows, lingering in the aisle next to Alicia’s bed. “Hmm? What’s up?”

“Where are you going?” Alicia asks dumbly.

Al blinks. “To bed?”

“Where are you sleeping?”

Al’s jaw hangs open for a moment while she tries to figure out if Alicia is messing with her or not. She clears her throat and says, “Well, I was planning on setting up a bed there.” She motions to the seats across from Alicia. “But if that’s too close for you, I can sleep up front.”

“No!” Alicia says, way too quickly. Her face flushes, and she stammers, “I mean, you can sleep wherever, obviously. It’s your van –”

“Alicia,” Al interrupts. Alicia falls silent. “Are you okay?”

“I – no,” Alicia answers. “I should be, though.” Alicia’s voice breaks. “My mom is alive, but she’s with the Pioneers, and I don’t even know if she knows that Nick is dead. And I killed a guy over a fucking book and every time I kill a walker, I – but no, I’m not okay.”

Al nods solemnly. “What can I do?”

Alicia hesitates. “Stay.”

“I’m here,” Al assures her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“No, I mean –” Alicia sighs. She doesn’t know how to say it without sounding utterly pathetic. She decides to just go with sounding utterly pathetic. “Can you sit with me until I fall asleep again?”

Al is visibly taken aback, but she nods right away. “Yeah. Of course.”

“Thank you.”

Al sits back down at the end of the seats, and Alicia pauses. “Well?” Al says. “Lay down. Or were you really asking to sit down and have some kind of a heart to heart?”

When Al smiles gently, Alicia rolls her eyes and says, “God, no. Gross.” Al chuckles to herself and leans back into the van as Alicia tries to figure out how this is going to work. Trying not to second guess herself, she drapes her legs over Al’s, assuming Al’s going to stay seated. What else would she do? Al doesn’t complain or crack a joke, which Alicia takes as a good sign, and Alicia attempts to fall asleep.

She should’ve known that wouldn’t happen. Not with her legs resting on Al’s thighs. While Alicia pretends like she’s about to sleep, Al manages to snag a book off a nearby shelf and starts reading. Alicia gives herself ten minutes. She counts to sixty ten times, slowly, but when she’s still awake by the end, she decides it’s time to give up.

“How am I supposed to tell her?” Alicia says. Her voice sounds rough, which causes Al to look up from the book in her hands.

“What?”

“My mom,” Alicia says quietly. “How am I supposed to tell her that Nick is dead if she doesn’t already know? She spent so much time looking after him. How am I supposed to tell her that I couldn’t protect him once she was gone?”

Al inhales deeply. “I don’t know,” she admits. “But it wasn’t your fault.”

“You don’t know my mom,” Alicia mutters. “She’ll know it was my fault. If I could’ve just –”

“Alicia,” Al interrupts. “You can’t do that to yourself. You can’t blame yourself for Nick’s death, and I don’t see how Madison could blame you, either.”

“You don’t know what it was like,” Alicia says. “I know my mom loves me, but I’m not stupid. I know she’d rather have Nick be alive than me.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“You don’t know her like I do. If she doesn’t already know – and she didn’t say anything about it – she’s going to be crushed. She’s going to wish it was me instead.”

“She couldn’t,” Al says. She snaps the book shut and sets it aside. Her hands come to rest on Alicia’s shins. “The way she talked about you in her interview…she loves you, Alicia.”

“She loves him more. And he always needed her more, but the funny thing is, I couldn’t need her _because_ of how much he needed her.”

“I don’t know if I’m following what you’re saying.”

“He was a drug addict,” Alicia says. She stares up at the ceiling, unable to bring herself to look at Al even though she can feel Al’s eyes on her. “He was in the hospital every other week for a drug overdose. She always had to be there for him, so I was left to do everything on my own. Jesus Christ, I got into fucking Berkeley and they barely batted an eye because Nick was back in the hospital.” God, all of that was so long ago. She might as well be a totally different person now. “All I wanted to do was get away,” Alicia admits. “From my mom, from Nick, from my stepfamily. Now I’d give everything to get it all back.”

“I know what it’s like.”

“Do you?” Alicia questions.

“My entire family is dead,” Al reminds. “Everyone I loved from the world before this shithole is dead. The one person I truly connected with in this world couldn’t stay, and I wouldn’t even know where to begin to look for her if she isn’t with the Pioneers.”

Alicia swallows hard. She knows Al’s referring to Isabelle. For some reason, this information doesn’t sit well with her. She doesn’t want to talk about Isabelle. Hell, she’s pretty sure if she asked, Al would brush her off, anyway. So instead, Alicia asks, “What was your brother like?”

A wistful smile crosses Al’s face. “He was an idiot,” she says. They both laugh, then Al continues, “His name was Jesse. He was two years older than me. If I was good at something, I can guarantee you, he was better at it than I was. He was obviously my mom’s favorite. He had a boring desk job at a bank, and he was married with two kids by the time all this shit happened.”

“What happened to them?” Alicia asks quietly.

Al’s teeth sink into her lower lip, and she taps her fingers against Alicia’s shins. She stares across the van at nothing in particular as she says, “They all died. They lived in Houston, and the virus spread fast through cities, you know? No one knew what a bite meant at first. I found all four of them locked in their basement.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago,” Al says softly. “I would’ve let them kill me if I didn’t have more people to track down. There was a story I shouldn’t have chased, but I chased it anyway, and when I got to Texas, it was all over. So I found my brother and his family. And I found my parents. And I found my girlfriend, who I probably would’ve married if that had been legal in Texas, but that’s a whole different story.”

“Not one you want to tell?”

“Not one I want to tell,” Al confirms. “Unless you’re going to tell me all the details of your past relationships.”

Alicia cracks a smile. “Pass.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Alicia hesitates. “What about Isabelle?”

“What about her?”

Alicia’s mouth has suddenly gone dry. “Just…you know.”

“I don’t know, actually. I’ve kind of told you most of what I know about her.”

“You like her.”

Al inhales deeply, mulls it over. “I don’t know her very well. And if she’s with the Pioneers…I don’t know, Alicia. Everything’s so fucking complicated.”

“Yeah.”

“Are we going to talk about our feelings?” Al teases.

“Gross. Of course not.” They both laugh tiredly, and when it dies off, Alicia asks, “If Isabelle is with the Pioneers…does that change anything?”

“Probably.”

“Why?”

“I know we don’t know a whole lot about them,” Al says, “but the Pioneers rub me the wrong way. They’re hiding a lot. That entire conversation we had with Ginny – she’s full of shit. I’m hoping your mom can tell us something real about them.”

“Me too,” Alicia murmurs. Alicia takes a moment, focusing on the way Al’s fingers are still tapping against her shins. “You know that last tree we saw? Wes painted it with Berkeley’s colors.”

Al looks over at Alicia in mild surprise then grins widely. “Seriously?”

“I mean, I told him that’s where I was gonna go, but I didn’t expect – you know, I don’t know why I brought that up.”

“No, it makes sense,” Al says. “He obviously has a thing for you.”

Alicia laughs so hard, she clutches onto her stomach. “Really?”

“Come on. He makes it so obvious. He would’ve let Janis die if it had just been me out there.”

“You don’t actually believe that, do you?”

Al nods. “I do. He saved her because of you.” As Al pauses, Alicia flinches, anticipating the next words out of her mouth right before she says them. “But the question is: do you like him?”

“I’m not answering that,” Alicia blurts.

“You do.”

“I didn’t say that! Besides, I barely know him. How can I like him?”

Al shrugs. “Sometimes it’s just a feeling.”

“Well, feelings are stupid,” Alicia says. She folds her hands together and rests them beneath her head as she stares up at the ceiling. “I think part of me was looking to replace Jake,” she admits. “Not that anyone could replace him, you know? But…I don’t know. When I found the trees, I thought there was someone like Jake out there. Wes isn’t like Jake, but he’s not – I don’t think he’s a bad person.”

“He seems alright,” Al says, albeit grudgingly. “Sounds like Jake was an interesting guy.”

“You’d like him,” Alicia says. “At least, you’d enjoy interviewing him. He’d talk your ear off if you gave him the chance. He didn’t deserve what happened to him.” Alicia inhales. “How do you live with it? Knowing people you love died in horrific ways when you get to keep living?”

“You find something that keeps you going.”

“I’m just so tired,” Alicia whispers. “Tired of everything.”

“We’re going to make a difference,” Al says. “It might be hard to buy into Morgan’s excessive optimism, but I believe we’ll do something good while we’re out here. Maybe it’ll give us a purpose.”

“You think so?”

“I don’t know,” Al says. She smiles and pats Alicia’s leg. “But you should really sleep. We’re gonna call the Pioneers in the morning. Try to set something up with Madison.”

“I don’t know if I can fall asleep,” Alicia says. She feels pathetic the moment the words leave her mouth, but she doesn’t see any judgment pass Al’s face.

“It’s okay,” Al says quietly. She leans her head back against the van, continues to let her hands rest on Alicia’s legs. “I’ll be here.”

*

She’s at Broke Jaw Ranch. She’s not in the underground pantry, which is where Alicia’s mind tells her she should be. She should be mercy killing a bunch of people right about now. They should all be on the verge of suffocating and passing out. No, instead, she’s outside. There are no walkers. It’s just Alicia and three people off in the distance. Seeing no other option, she makes the trek over to them. The person that rushes over to greet her as soon as she’s close enough is Al.

“Whoa, hey,” she says, holding her hands out. “Slow down.”

“Al?” Alicia says. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Just hold on,” she says.

“What’s going on?” Alicia tries to ask, but she’s cut off by someone screaming in pain. Her eyes widen, and she tries to shove past Al. Al gets her arms around Alicia, and Al’s too strong. Alicia can’t break her hold on her, can’t get past her to whoever’s screaming. She manages to twist them just enough to lay eyes on Jake as Nick unskillfully amputates his arm. The sight alone is enough to make Alicia feel sick, but she’s able to push that feeling aside. She needs to get to Jake. She needs to talk to him, to at least tell him she loves him. Maybe say goodbye. He needs someone who loves him by his side.

“I need to go!” Alicia shouts. She still can’t break Al’s hold on her. “I need to get to him!”

“You can’t,” Al says calmly.

“Why not?”

“You aren’t supposed to be there.”

Alicia’s stunned into silence. “What does that even mean?” she cries. She looks back at Al, searching her face for answers, but Al’s expression is impassive. Maybe Al herself doesn’t even know. Alicia turns her eyes back to Jake and Nick, watching as Nick stumbles back, wiping sweat from his forehead with his arm. His hands are too bloodied. Even with the tourniquet in place, Jake loses too much blood. Alicia knows how it goes. Rarely does her mind conjure up such a clear image of his death. She spent the first few weeks after he was gone imagining how it went down while she was fully conscious. Tortured herself with it, really. She wasn’t there. She’ll never know how it really played out.

Jake goes silent. Alicia struggles futilely against Al’s hold – why is Al even here? She’s never been anywhere near Broke Jaw Ranch, as far as Alicia knows. And then, after an eternity passes, Alicia takes a swing that catches Al off guard and sends her fist directly into Al’s jaw. It’s enough to cause Al to loosen her grip as she stumbles back, and Alicia sprints to Jake’s side. The silence is deafening now. She ignores the stump where his arm used to be and all the blood, crouching at his side. She presses one hand to his chest, puts the other against his cheek.

She should know what’s coming by now. His eyes are the wrong color when they open. Alicia jolts awake, narrowly saving herself from falling off the seats and hitting the floor. She props herself up on one arm, breathing heavily. Her shirt’s sticking to her skin thanks to her sweat, and she dazedly thinks that maybe she should invest in a pair of shorts now that she’s sleeping in what’s basically a tank. Sleeping in pants is starting to be –

Her hand hits something behind her, and it’s too soft to be the side of the van. Alicia’s heart stops for half a second, and she lifts her hand as she realizes what she’s touching. It explains why she’s sweating more than usual after a nightmare, and it might also explain why she felt so restrained in her dream. Al’s right behind her, fast asleep. It takes Alicia some time, but she figures out that Al’s facing her, though she’s managed to mostly keep her arms and legs to herself. They shared a bed at the police station, but that was out of necessity. This is something else.

And now Alicia is faced with a choice. If Alicia moves, Al will know that she knows that Al decided to just go to sleep right behind her. If Alicia doesn’t move, she has to wait until Al gets up – and that could be hours from now – and she’ll be stuck here. Alicia doubts she’ll be able to sleep, whatever she does. Seeing Jake in her dreams always messes her up. And this is the first time she’s ever dreamt about Al, as far as she remembers.

Alicia settles back into the spot she’d occupied before she’d woken up, exhaling. If she concentrates, she can feel Al’s chest rising and falling behind her, hear her breathing steadily. It’s almost comforting, but the images replay over and over in Alicia’s head. Jake dies. He always dies. Alicia clamps her hand over her mouth when the tears start. She hates crying. She always feels so fucking weak when she cries, but she can’t stop it this time. Her mom may be alive, but she isn’t here now, and there are hundreds of things Alicia can feel guilty about, Jake being just one.

Alicia’s body trembles violently, and the moment before she’s about to slide off the steps to avoid waking Al, Al starts to stir. Alicia panics and commits to escaping, but Al’s hand lands at her waist as Al grunts, “Hey, wait. What’s wrong?”

“Don’t,” Alicia hisses. She swipes at the tears on her face first, quickly, then grabs onto Al’s hand and lifts it off of her. “Don’t even start –”

“What’s the matter, Alicia?” Al says. Her hand closes around Alicia’s, and though her voice is still heavy with sleep, her grasp is strong. “Stop trying to run.”

“What am I even doing, Al?” Alicia says through her teeth. She has to fight to keep her voice from breaking. “What’s the point? Nothing is ever going to get any better, so why bother?”

“Hey,” Al says sharply. “You can’t know that things won’t get better. You still have people. That’s the most important thing.”

“I just want to be able to sleep without having to see all their faces,” Alicia breathes. Al lets Alicia pull her hand free, but Alicia stops trying to get up. Instead, she settles back into Al, doesn’t resist when Al’s arm loosely encircles her waist. Alicia feels herself relax, finds the physical contact more comforting than it is uncomfortable.

“Yeah, me too,” Al murmurs. Her forehead leans against the back of Alicia’s neck, and Alicia can feel Al exhale against her skin. “Just try to go back to sleep,” Al mumbles. “I’ll be here.”

“At least I didn’t punch you this time,” Alicia whispers.

Al’s laughter rumbles in the back of her throat. “Yeah, that’s a good thing. I’ve already got one bruise.” There’s a pause so long, Alicia assumes Al has gone back to sleep before Al startles her by asking, “Do you want me to get up?”

“What? Why?”

“Just asking.”

Alicia hesitates, thinks it over. If she says no – fuck it. She’s not going to overthink this on top of everything else. “Just stay,” Alicia mumbles.

“Okay.”

*

Alicia wakes up completely disoriented, which seems to be nothing new nowadays. She’s still in the van, and there’s still…a body behind her? Alicia lifts her head, and it all comes flooding back into her memory as soon as she lays eyes on Al. Al, thankfully, is still asleep, so Alicia slowly lifts Al’s arm from around her waist and gets up. Alicia pauses, studying the purple splotch left behind on Al’s face from when Alicia accidentally punched her. Alicia recoils at the memory – and at the thought of explaining to everyone else what happened. She shakes it off and gets dressed quickly before she leaves the van.

She almost runs straight into Morgan. “Jesus!” Alicia exclaims. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” Morgan says. “I was just coming to find you.”

“Did something happen?”

“You found out your mother is alive,” Morgan says bluntly. “So yes, something did happen.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Alicia says.

“Well, that’s too bad,” Morgan replies. “We’re going to talk about it. When I met you – and Nick and Strand and Luci – you were all set on avenging your fallen home, but mostly you wanted to avenge your mother, and now she’s here.”

“I don’t want a lecture, Morgan,” Alicia interjects. “I know what I did. I’m not proud of it. But I can’t change the past, just like you can’t. I can just…move forward, I guess.”

“What’s your plan?” he asks.

“My plan? My plan for what?”

“Handling your mother.”

Alicia’s eyebrows pull together. “Why do I have to handle her? What are you –?”

“She’s a Pioneer,” Morgan cuts in. “Everything Tom and Janis have said indicate that the Pioneers are no good.”

“No good? Morgan, we don’t know these people.”

“We know Janis. And we know Tom. Everything they’ve told us has been bad, to say the least.”

Honestly, Alicia has no idea what Tom said about the Pioneers. She wasn’t around for that, but she doesn’t want to ask Morgan. Maybe she should’ve just kept spooning with Al in the van. At least then she would’ve avoided this conversation. Even though she has to squint against the sun, Alicia refuses to break eye contact with Morgan. “My mom isn’t a bad person,” Alicia says with as much conviction as she can muster up. “No matter what the Pioneers are or are not. Besides, I don’t think anything can be classified as solely good or solely bad. Ginny said their goal is to rebuild. Is that a bad thing?”

“It can be,” Morgan says. “It sounds like they only allow certain people to stay with them. They want a particular kind of society.”

“Meaning what?”

Morgan sighs. “From what it sounds like, they only keep people Ginny deems useful to their community. They don’t take care of their own. If you’re sick, you become a waste of resources and they throw you out, if they don’t outright kill you.”

“You know this for sure?”

Morgan hesitates. “I’m just telling you what Tom told us.”

“We can’t trust any of them,” Alicia says. “The Pioneers or Tom and Janis.”

“You don’t trust Tom and Janis? Even after you went out of your way to save them both?” Morgan questions.

“For all we know, they’re still with the Pioneers and they’ve been sent to infiltrate us,” Alicia says. She’s pretty sure that theory is bullshit, but the indignant look that crosses Morgan’s face makes voicing it anyway worth it. “I trust my mom,” Alicia says. She refuses to show any doubts she has about that statement. “I’m going to talk to her. I’m going to hear what she has to say. And I’ll go from there.”

“Just promise me one thing,” Morgan calls as Alicia starts to walk away.

“What?”

“Promise me you’ll be careful.”

Alicia nods. “Yeah. I will.” As Morgan starts to head in the direction of John’s truck, Alicia hurries to catch up to him before he gets there. “Hey, Morgan!”

He turns back. “What?”

“What are you up to?” she asks. “You know I’m going to meet my mom. What’s your plan?”

A grim look settles into Morgan’s face. “I’m trying to figure out a way to get Dwight back from the oil fields.”

*

She knows there’s a good chance someone in the convoy will hear her, but she has to try anyway. Alicia picks up her walkie and says, “Wes, are you out there? Can you hear me?” She waits a few minutes before trying again, but she still receives no response. Just as she’s about to give up, the walkie crackles.

“Alicia? It’s Wes. Are you there?”

“I’m here,” she answers.

“What’s going on?”

“Where are you?” she asks.

“Same place I have been,” he replies. “How about you?”

“I’m not far,” she says. She’s not nearly stupid enough to broadcast the convoy’s location, not when the Pioneers are most likely listening to every conversation they’re having. Surely Wes knows it, too. “Think we can meet somewhere?”

“Are you gonna be able to get away?”

“You let me worry about that.”

*

She meets Wes at a gas station only a couple miles up the road. It’s farther for him than it is for her, but he swears he’s willing to make the trip, so Alicia doesn’t argue. She _does_ have to argue with Morgan to get him to let her take her truck, since it is, in fact, still _her_ truck even if she’s moved into the van and even if someone else is living in it for the time being. Morgan says something about how it isn’t safe for her to go alone, and she flashes the Glock at her hip and says something about how she can handle herself. It’s the same bullshit, but Morgan finally relents.

“Be careful,” he warns. “And call if you need backup.”

She won’t need backup unless the Pioneers decide to ambush them, but that makes no strategic sense. The only way it could is if they were targeting Alicia specifically, and she supposes that’s not entirely illogical, but she doubts that’s how her mother would try to get her back. If anything, Madison might try to convince Alicia when they meet up to join the Pioneers. And Alicia isn’t sure if she has the willpower to say no. Not after everything she’s been through since Madison supposedly died.

Alicia waits a few minutes for Wes to show up, and his motorcycle announces his arrival before he comes into view. He motions toward the gas station as he kills the engine, and they head inside.

“That’s weird,” Wes says.

“What is?” Alicia asks. He motions behind the counter. Two walkers lie on the floor, dead, bullet holes in their foreheads. “Someone was here,” Alicia says. “That’s not out of the ordinary.”

“But bullet holes?” Wes shakes his head. “Anyway, what’s up?”

“I saw the tree,” she informs. “Got your note.”

He grins. “The Berkeley tree?”

“Yeah.”

“I did my best to match their colors.”

Alicia smiles. “Well, you did a good enough job. I figured it out right away.”

Wes shrugs and crams his hands into his pockets. “I was hit with some inspiration.”

“My mom’s alive,” Alicia blurts. “I thought I was the last person in my family – I still don’t know how I’m not. I mean, she should be dead, but she’s not. She’s – she’s with the Pioneers.”

Wes’s eyebrows raise. “The Pioneers?”

“Yeah. I know.” Alicia chews on her lower lip. “I have to call them to set up a meeting with my mom. I have to know how she’s alive, and I – I don’t know if she knows that my brother is dead or not.”

Wes nods. “Yeah. I get that, but don’t you think that’s –”

“Stupid?” Alicia supplies.

“Dangerous,” Wes corrects.

“Maybe. But she’s my mom. She wouldn’t intentionally hurt me. Not after she basically sacrificed herself for me, even if she didn’t end up dying.”

“Look, I’m not judging,” Wes says. He boosts himself up onto the counter, sitting with his legs dangling off the edge. “I’m just saying, these people are dangerous. I don’t know why she joined them. Maybe she did it hoping they’d help her find you. Or maybe she really believes in what they’re doing, Alicia. Then I guess you have to sort that out for yourself.”

“I don’t know what I’ll say. If my mom asks me to join them. I don’t know what I’ll say to her. I already pretty much offered to stay at Paradise Ridge with her. Al’s the only reason I didn’t.”

Wes’s eyebrows pull together. “Your lady stopped you?”

Alicia’s face burns red, and she’s reminded of last night’s sleeping arrangements. “I already told you,” Alicia mutters. “Al and I aren’t together. She’s not my lady. What is with you two?”

“What do you mean?” Wes laughs.

“I mean, Al thinks you and I are a thing while you think Al and I are a thing.”

“Wait,” Wes says. “Al thinks you and I are together?”

Alicia rolls her eyes. “Something like that.”

“Well, I can see why. You snuck away from the rest of your group to be here.”

“Technically, I didn’t sneak away. Morgan knows where I’m at.”

“Ah, so people know about us.”

He laughs as Alicia’s face heats up again, and Alicia shakes her head. “There’s no us,” she says over his laughter. “Just so we’re clear.”

“Right, right. Because I just go around painting trees for anyone.”

“Do you?”

“Of course not,” Wes scoffs. “I mean, most of them are for me, but I left notes at the ones that were for you.”

“Right.”

“Don’t get all awkward on me now,” Wes teases. “This conversation was just getting good.”

“So you painted some trees for me,” Alicia says. “It’s not like you’ve asked me out.”

“Should I?”

“No,” Alicia huffs.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t have time for…dating.”

“Sure,” Wes says. He slides off the counter, smirking. “Like I’m going to believe that. If you don’t like me, just say so. We could die at any moment. Might as well skip over the bullshit that usually comes with this kind of thing.”

“Wes, I –”

“Or you can think about it,” he offers. “Get back to me. I know there aren’t really five star restaurants around anymore, but I’ll come up with something good.” He crosses his heart. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Alicia can’t suppress her smile, even as she rolls her eyes. “I’ll think about it,” she agrees.

“If you want to say no, you can say no. No hard feelings.”

“I didn’t – I understand how this works, Wes,” Alicia laughs.

“Just saying,” he says. “If you’re more interested in someone else, I get it.”

“Like who?”

“Your lady, obviously.”

“Stop saying that!” Alicia exclaims. “She’s not – we’re just friends.”

Wes hums. “Why don’t I believe you, Alicia?”

“I don’t know! You tell me.”

“You’re seriously just friends?”

Alicia refuses to allow herself to hesitate and overanalyze that. “Yes,” she insists. “Trust me, I should know.”

“Then why does it feel like I’m in some kind of competition?”

“Because I didn’t immediately agree to go on a date with you?” Alicia guesses. “But that has nothing to do with Al.”

Wes grins and winks at Alicia. “Right. Well, get back to me once you’ve thought it over, okay?”

“I said I will. Jesus.”

Wes grins wider. “There’s gotta be something of use in this place, right? Maybe some snacks or something? I’m kinda hungry.”

“Maybe.”

That’s what leads them to the back of the gas station where they find a mysterious TV set up. They exchange a glance, but Wes shrugs and pops the tape in. Maybe it’s one of their own, Alicia thinks. Maybe Morgan had more stations set up, and she just didn’t know about it. After a moment, an image appears on screen, and Wes turns up the volume. Alicia startles when Ginny’s smiling face appears.

“Hi there,” Ginny says. She stands next to her horse, hat on her head, key patch on her lapel. “My name’s Virginia, but folks around here call me Ginny. I lead a group known as the Pioneers, and we’re getting this video out there to tell everyone about what we’re trying to do here.”

“What the fuck is this?” Wes asks.

“That’s Ginny,” Alicia says faintly. “She leads the Pioneers. I met her.”

“You met her?”

“Long story.”

“At least there’ll be something interesting to talk about if you go on that date with me.”

Alicia shushes him. Ginny keeps talking, but Alicia’s having a hard time committing any of her words to memory. She walks away with one phrase that leaves Ginny’s mouth. “We want to help you get from yesterday to tomorrow. Just give us a call on channel five.”

“Okay, that’s weird,” Wes says as the video comes to an end. “Really weird. If you ask me, it’s a lot like the video you put out.”

Alicia’s jaw clenches. “I think that’s the point.” She snatches the tape out of the player when it pops out.

“What’re you doing?” Wes asks.

“I’m taking this back to camp,” Alicia says. “The others need to see this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	9. it could get us killed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I'm really pumping out the chapters right now (and I'm writing 13 as this is going up), but I go back to work soon, so updates will start to get more irregular once I run out of completed chapters to edit. Thank you for all the kind comments! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Wes insists on accompanying Alicia back to the convoy. He doesn’t really explain why beyond, “Who knows where the Pioneers are at?” And she doesn’t really push him beyond that. She leads the way back, Wes’s motorcycle following behind her, and she’s surprised to find a convoy-wide meeting commencing as she pulls up.

“Just in time,” Morgan calls. His eyes shift away from Alicia and land on Wes. “And we have…a guest?”

“This is Wes,” Alicia says unceremoniously. “Al and I helped him a while back. Long, boring story.” Before Wes can argue, Alicia brandishes the tape. “We discovered that the Pioneers have a new recruitment strategy,” she says.

“What the fuck is that?” Al asks. She steps forward, and in the daylight, her jaw looks a whole lot worse than Alicia originally thought. The bruise is larger than Alicia remembers, and it’s a nasty shade of mottled purple and green, boldly marking Al’s otherwise unblemished skin.

“Did she fistfight someone?” Wes whispers next to Alicia’s ear.

“That’s a long story, too,” Alicia replies. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Did she win or lose?”

Before Alicia can respond, Al reaches them, hand outstretched. “Give me that bullshit,” Al orders. Alicia doesn’t argue and slaps the tape into Al’s hand. Al heads straight to the van. Morgan clears his throat, regathering the convoy’s attention.

“As I was saying,” he says, “we’re going to start searching for a permanent place to stay. Of course, our number one priority is ensuring Dwight’s safe return, as John has reminded us.”

“He saved a lot of us, you know,” John pipes up. “By staying behind, he saved everyone else. We owe it to him to get him outta there. And he’s my friend, after all.”

“We will get him back, John,” Morgan assures him. “And we will have a place to call our home.”

“In this area?” Alicia can’t help but ask. All eyes turn to her, and she resists the urge to fidget.

“We were hoping so, yes,” Morgan answers.

“Even though the Pioneers have clearly marked this area as their territory?” Alicia presses. She started it. Might as well keep going, even if everyone’s eyes are locked on her.

“The Pioneers have posed no direct threat to us yet,” Morgan says, louder than necessary. “They released Tom into our custody. They let you and Al leave their base without issue –”

“They forcibly took control of the oil fields and murdered Logan and his people,” Alicia announces. She figures they all probably know already, but it doesn’t hurt to remind them. “No direct threat? That’s pretty damn direct if you ask me. Not to mention they’re holding Dwight hostage –”

“Now, that’s not what’s happening,” Morgan argues.

“Then why isn’t he here?” Alicia questions. “Why is he at the oil fields teaching the Pioneers to make gasoline? Is that what he wants to be doing?”

“Your own mother is with them, Alicia,” Morgan says coldly. “Are the Pioneers really going to pose an existential threat to us when we both have the same goal of trying to help people?”

“I don’t think Tom and Janis would agree the Pioneers are helping people,” Alicia says. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Wes’s muscles tense. In fact, the entire convoy seems to be on edge, with Tom and Janis hiding somewhere in the back of the crowd. Alicia realizes no one has really stood up to Morgan before, especially not in front of everyone. “I can’t speak for my mother,” Alicia says. “At least, not before I’ve spent more than five minutes with her. I don’t know what’s going on yet, but I’m going to find out. In the meantime, I think it’s better to be safe than sorry. I think we should stay the hell away from the Pioneers.”

“But you don’t get to make that call, Alicia,” Morgan says. “We’re going to start looking in the area. Our videos are still out there. People are calling for us to help them. We’re finding people, and we can’t be nomadic forever. That’s how it’s going to be.”

“The Pioneers are going to slaughter you,” Wes whispers.

“Shut up,” Alicia hisses.

“At least if they do it won’t be your fault.”

“Because that’s what’ll be important if the Pioneers slaughter us,” Alicia sneers. “ _At least it won’t be my fault_.”

Morgan isn’t done talking, but Alicia is done listening. She grabs Wes by the wrist and leads him over to the van. Since she lives here now, she doesn’t bother to knock, just walks right in the back entrance with Wes in tow. Al doesn’t even look up from the video, which is just ending.

“This is some fucking –” Al doesn’t bother to finish her sentence. The tape pops out, and she shatters it against the side of the van. Alicia and Wes both jump, but Al immediately calms down after she has the pieces of the tape in her hands. “Sorry,” she adds as an afterthought. “But they stole this idea directly from us.”

“Of course they did,” Alicia agrees.

“And it’s a bunch of fucking lies.” Al steps around Alicia and Wes to throw the pieces of the tape out the door. “People are going to see that shit,” Al seethes. “And they might believe it, too.”

“Well, we can destroy any copies we find,” Alicia says.

“You’re damn right we’re going to,” Al says. She pauses. “What’re you doing here, Wes? I thought you weren’t about helping people? I thought you wanted to hole up in your police station by yourself?”

He jabs his thumb in Alicia’s direction. “I’m just here for her.”

Al’s eyebrows raise. “You’re here for her?”

“Sure am.” Wes pauses, rubbing at his beard and studying Al’s face. “I’m sorry. Did you fight someone, Al?”

Al’s eyes narrow. “What?”

“Your face,” Wes says, motioning to his own jaw. “Kinda got a massive bruise there. Hard to miss.”

“Oh, Alicia punched me,” Al says nonchalantly.

“ _Alicia_ punched you?” Wes questions. He grins. “Lovers quarrel?”

Alicia exclaims, “Wes!” at the same time that Al snorts, “Oh, shut the fuck up.”

“What?” Wes says. “Why else would she punch you?”

“I was technically asleep,” Alicia admits. “But we’re not here to talk about Al’s face. What are we going to do about the Pioneers and their video full of bullshit?”

“Well,” Al says, running her fingers through her hair, “it sounds like Morgan’s trying to find us a permanent settlement within spitting distance of the Pioneers.”

“That sounds like the worst idea ever, and I’m not even part of this group,” Wes says flatly.

“That’s because anyone can see that it _is_ the worst idea ever,” Alicia replies. “We already tried the reckless endangerment kind of helping people. We crashed a plane for no reason, and I got a taste of radiation-filled walker blood. We should be trying to keep ourselves safe while helping people, not risking our asses over, what? A territory dispute? The Pioneers were here first, and since I don’t want to fight a war we can’t win, they can have the fucking place.”

“Thank you,” Al says.

“Makes sense to me,” Wes agrees. “So who’s going to talk your buddy down?”

“I’m sure he’s thrilled with me,” Alicia mutters. “Daring to question his leadership in front of everyone.”

“Yeah, not your greatest idea,” Al says. “I’ll talk to him privately. See what I can do. I might be able to buy us at least a few more weeks of this nomadic lifestyle, unless he finds a place he’s dead set on.”

“Hopefully that place isn’t here,” Alicia says.

Al nods. “Hopefully.” She pauses, scratching the back of her neck. “They said they’re on channel five, Alicia,” Al says quietly. “You think it’s time to call your mom?”

*

The conversation doesn’t last long, but Madison agrees to meet Alicia, Al, Strand, and Luci at a coffee shop in a nearby town tomorrow morning. She assures Alicia she’s going to come alone, except for her horse. As Alicia’s signing off the walkie, Al returns from Morgan’s truck to fill Alicia and Wes in.

“He’s very adamant,” Al sighs. “ _We started here, we’re going to stay here_ or whatever. I don’t see how it makes any difference where we help people. We crashed a fucking plane to help Logan, a man who never intended to lose sight of the factory. But I tried.”

“What place is he even thinking of?” Alicia questions.

Al exhales and drops onto the seats across from where Alicia and Wes are sitting. “Morgan said John mentioned this place from his past. Somewhere called Humbug’s Gulch. It’s some kind of theme park that John used to work at. I don’t know. It’s pretty far from here, but it could be well within Pioneer territory. Ginny did say something about having multiple settlements.”

“I mean, I’ve been dying to see something outside of Texas,” Wes muses. “Why not just flee the state?”

“Did you join us or something?” Al asks.

“No.”

“Well, you should go talk to Morgan about officially joining the convoy, and then I’ll hear your opinions, alright?”

Wes smiles, and Alicia puts her face in her hands. It’s safer to just not engage with Al and Wes if they’re gonna go at it. “So is that the direction we’re heading in, then?” Alicia asks. “Humbug’s Gulch?”

“Supposedly,” Al says.

“And are we the only people not completely on board with this idea?” Alicia asks.

“I don’t know,” Al admits. “Tell you what. I’ll talk to June if you talk to Strand and Luci.”

“Deal,” Alicia agrees. She hesitates, turning to Wes. “You know, you _can_ actually join us,” she tells him. “Morgan will approve it.”

“All my stuff is back at the station,” Wes points out. “And all I have is a motorcycle. I can’t transport everything, first of all, and second of all, I can’t live in a motorcycle.”

“We can take care of that,” Alicia dismisses. “At least go talk to Morgan about spending a night or two with us.”

Wes sighs. “Fine. I will.”

“Thank you,” Alicia says. She watches him leave the van in search of Morgan before she turns her full attention to Al. “Well? Let’s go talk to our friends.”

“Hold up,” Al says. “Just so you know, Wes is not living in here with us. Three people is not feasible.”

Alicia glares at her. “I didn’t think he’d live in here with us,” she says. “There’s definitely not enough space.”

Al nods and motions toward the exit. “Let’s get this over with.”

Alicia heads straight for Luci and Strand’s truck. She feels like she hasn’t spent any time with them in the past couple weeks, which isn’t totally true, but Al and Wes and worrying about the Pioneers have taken up a lot of Alicia’s attention.

“Hey!” Luci greets, immediately throwing her arms around Alicia.

“Alicia,” Strand says. “Don’t tell me you’re here for the reason I think you’re here.”

“And why do you think I’m here?” Alicia asks.

Strand smiles, and sunlight glints off the diamond stud in his ear. “Are you here to ask us to stand against Morgan with you?”

Alicia laughs. “Can we have this conversation in the truck?”

“I thought so,” Strand says. He waits until Alicia and Luci get in, and he rolls all the windows up. “So what are we planning?” Strand asks, slapping his hands against the steering wheel. “A mutiny?”

“What? No,” Alicia says. “No, not at all. I just – I’m trying to see if Al and I are the only people here who think settling close to the Pioneers is a bad idea.”

Strand scoffs. “Of course it’s a bad idea. In fact, it’s a terrible fucking idea. And it took some balls of you to say so in front of everyone, Alicia. I’ll give you that.” He smiles widely. “You really are Madison’s daughter.”

Alicia flinches but simultaneously feels kind of proud. But she doesn’t want to talk about Madison yet. “Luci? What about you?” Alicia asks.

Luci hesitates. “You know I want to help people, Alicia. I was on board with flying over a mountain to help Logan, and I ended up with a pole through my shoulder.” Alicia’s eyes drop to Luci’s shoulder, the scar barely covered by her T-shirt, and Alicia winces. That dredges up more memories she’d love nothing more than to forget. Luci screaming, clutching onto Alicia as June worked on pulling the pole out and controlling the bleeding. Even after all this time, Luci’s not sure she’s fully recovered all the function in her arm. “I think the Pioneers are more dangerous than crashing a plane in a town near a melting down nuclear power plant.”

“So you don’t want to settle either?” Alicia asks.

“Neither of us do,” Strand answers. “Helping people here is great, but we can just as easily help people in, oh, Oklahoma. Or Kansas. Hell, we could go back out to the west coast or even try going farther east for once. I don’t care. I don’t get why we have to choose an area that has already been settled by a group that’s calling themselves the Pioneers, for fuck’s sake.”

“Good to know you guys have my back.”

Strand winks. “Always.”

Alicia hesitates as both Strand and Luci’s eyes lock onto her. “We’re going tomorrow,” she informs. “We’re meeting my mom at a coffee shop first thing in the morning.”

“That’s perfect,” Strand says. “I’ve missed Madison.” Something seems to occur to Strand, and he reaches down beneath his seat. “I think it’s about time you have this back,” he says. He holds the gun barrel out to Alicia. “Since your vow of nonviolence is over.”

Alicia inhales deeply, studying the weapon in Strand’s hand. It was once like an extension of her arm, and it made her an incredibly effective walker killer. “Thank you,” Alicia says quietly. She accepts the gun barrel back, swallowing hard. Just because she has it doesn’t mean she needs to use it, she tells herself. But just holding it makes her feel like she’s in control again. She feels powerful. She feels like her old self, and a part of her is scared by that.

“Are you nervous?” Luci asks. “About seeing your mom again?”

Alicia presses her lips together. “I’m afraid,” she confesses. “I don’t know if she knows about Nick.”

Luci’s expression darkens. “We can tell her together,” Luci assures her. “We’ll make sure she knows he didn’t die alone.”

Alicia nods. “I don’t think there’s anything we can say that’ll make this news easier for her to handle.”

“This is Madison we’re talking about,” Strand says. “She’s strong. She survives. And you’re still here, Alicia. I know she’ll be grateful for that.”

*

“Al,” John greets. He tips his hat toward her. “How can I help you?”

“Actually, I need to speak to your…wife?”

John smiles. “I don’t think we’re technically married yet, Al, but sure. Be my guest.”

“You better get on that then,” Al jokes.

“Don’t you worry,” John replies as he starts to walk off. “June knows she’s got me for life.”

“Then let’s see you stand up in front of a room full of your friends and say it!” Al calls, grinning. She pulls the door to John’s truck open and takes the spot behind the wheel. June’s shaking her head from the passenger’s seat.

“I don’t think now is the time for a wedding, Al,” June says.

“It’s always the time for a wedding,” Al says. “There’s no better time. I don’t think the walkers are going anywhere, unfortunately, but we can still make the best of it.”

“Since we’re on the topic of my hypothetical wedding,” June says, “I guess I’ll have to ask someone to be the maid of honor.”

“Oh, ask Alicia,” Al says. “She loves that shit.”

“Al, come on. Alicia would hate it, and I’m pretty certain she’d say no outright. We don’t have the best history.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Al says, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. “But her mom’s alive, so at least you aren’t responsible for killing her, right?”

“Al.”

“Sorry.”

“Just say it,” June invites.

“Say what?”

“Whatever you came here to talk about. Just lay it on me.”

“Actually, I came here to ask you a question,” Al says.

June’s eyebrows raise. “Are you going to ask me to marry you?”

“Am I – what?” Al laughs. “No.”

“Because even if you beat John to it, I’m going to have to say no.”

Al laughs harder, and June grins. “That’s hilarious, June. Thanks for the laugh. Really. But no, I have something more serious to ask.”

June’s grin falls. “What happened?”

“Morgan announced that he’s looking for a permanent settlement in the area,” Al says. “I know Alicia voiced her opinion, and frankly, I agree with her. I was coming to see what you and John are thinking.”

June purses her lips, staring out the windshield at Sarah and Wendell’s semi-truck ahead of them. The back doors are open, and Charlie’s sitting on the edge with Wendell, playing some sort of card game. “John and I agree that getting Dwight back should be our number one priority,” June says. “Dwight is our friend, so it’s about more than just the fact that Dwight helped us figure out how to make gasoline or that he volunteered to stay behind to save everyone else. We aren’t getting him back because of what he did. We’re getting him back because of who he is. And I think focusing on finding a permanent settlement pushes getting Dwight back into the periphery when it should be our main focus.”

“Right,” Al agrees.

“Even if that place is Humbug’s Gulch,” June continues. “The Gulch has a special meaning to John, and it’s where we first met Dwight. But it doesn’t feel right trying to move forward while Dwight is still stuck at the fields.”

“I agree.”

“I don’t trust the Pioneers,” June says. “Even if they’ve got Madison with them…I don’t think they’re acting in everyone’s best interest. I believe Janis and Tom.”

“I do, too.”

“Then what’s that look on your face about?”

Al sighs. “We don’t know much about them,” she points out. “Alicia and I talked to their leader, and we still don’t really know anything of use. The worst part is, Ginny was incredibly nice. At least, she acted nice. And she’s saying she’s trying to rebuild for the future.”

“You’re starting to sound like you don’t think they’re a threat.”

“No, that’s exactly why I think they’re a threat,” Al says. “Because I believe Tom and Janis. Hell, I believe Wes’s story, too. But the Pioneers are not presenting themselves as a threat. They’re acting as if they’re – well, they’re acting as if they’re like us, as if they’re genuinely trying to help people when they’re really just trying to help themselves. Settling near them is a bad idea, June. It could get us killed.”

“I know.”

“We have to change Morgan’s mind.”

June snorts. “Good luck.”

*

Alicia steps out of Strand and Luci’s truck just in time to catch Wes walking back from Morgan’s truck. “So?” Alicia calls. “What’d he say?”

“He said, _I can’t believe Alicia undermined my authority in front of everyone, and since you obviously like her, you can’t join us_ ,” Wes says, imitating Morgan’s deep voice.

“Wait, what –?”

“I’m just playing,” Wes laughs, playfully pushing at Alicia’s shoulder. “He said I can stay as long as I like. Even said he’d send someone to get all my things as long as I’m going with them.”

Alicia seizes the opportunity to ignore the fact that Wes has, again, brought up the fact that he likes her. She hasn’t figured out what to say to him about going on a date yet. “Did he assign you?” Alicia asks.

“Yep,” Wes confirms. “He said to find Luciana and Victor.”

“Don’t call him Victor. It’s Strand.”

“Strand?”

“Strand,” Alicia says. “And Luci. They’re right over there.”

“Friends of yours?”

“Might as well be family by now.”

Wes nods. “Then I guess that’s the best place I could be.”

Before Alicia can say anything, Morgan’s voice comes across her walkie. “Hey Al, if you’ve got a minute, I need to talk to you.”

“Yeah, I’ll be right over,” Al replies. Alicia watches the door of John and June’s truck pop open before Al steps out and crosses over to Morgan’s truck.

“What do you think that’s about?” Alicia asks.

Wes, in response, just laughs.

*

The drive to the police station occurs in tense, unbearably awkward silence. Wes doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by it. Alicia swears Al’s jaw stays clenched the entire drive, but Alicia’s careful not to stare too long. But Al’s jaw has to be hurting. That bruise looks nasty. Al’s jaw finally unclenches as the police station comes into view. Something is immediately not right.

“Jesus Christ,” Al breathes. The van screeches to a halt in front of the station. Alicia unbuckles her seatbelt and leans closer to the windshield, as if that’s going to change what she’s looking at.

“What’s happening?” Wes asks from the back. He shoves his way up front, poking his head between the two seats. “Is that –?”

“Was it on fire when you left?” Al asks cheekily.

“Of course it fucking wasn’t,” Wes snaps. Before he can try to take off, Alicia grabs a fistful of his shirt.

“Hang on,” Alicia says. “What are you trying to do?”

“That’s my house!”

“It’s burning down,” Al points out.

“You aren’t seriously going to try to go in there, are you?” Alicia asks. She refuses to loosen her hold on his shirt.

“All of my stuff –”

“Is gone,” Al finishes for him. For a long moment, the three of them stare out the windshield at the rising flames and the smoke. “You can’t go in there,” Al says. “If the flames don’t get you, the smoke inhalation will. Now I think we’ve wasted enough fuel. Alicia, will you radio Morgan and let him know we’re coming back?”

“Yeah,” Alicia says. She’s unable to tear her eyes away from the burning building. “How could it be – this doesn’t make sense.”

Al hums. “Sure it does. Unless we’ve got a rogue arsonist in the area, there’s only one group who’d do something like this.”

*

Wes moves in with Luci and Strand without complaint, and he graciously leaves Alicia and Al to brief Morgan on the situation at the police station.

“We have no evidence that the Pioneers targeted the station,” Morgan dismisses.

“You think they aren’t watching us?” Al questions. “You think they don’t know we’ve taken Wes in? It makes perfect sense for them to burn down the station if they know he’s here. It’s a warning.”

“It’s all speculation unless someone claims responsibility,” Morgan says. Al looks to Alicia for support. Alicia shakes her head and crosses her arms over her chest.

“It’s suspicious,” Alicia says. “What are the chances of this being a random act of arson?”

“Who knows?” Morgan says. “We have no proof it was the Pioneers.”

“Would you like me to call Ginny and ask her?” Al says wryly. “She seemed lovely when we met. I’m sure she’d love to chat about what the Pioneers do in their spare time.”

“Funny,” Morgan quips. “We’re not reaching out to the Pioneers. You’re seeing Madison in the morning. If you feel so inclined, you can ask her.”

“Good to know we’ve got your permission,” Alicia says.

Morgan sighs. “If there’s something you two would like to discuss, I’m more than happy to talk things out.”

“You can’t compromise on founding a permanent settlement,” Al says. “You’re either all in or all out.”

“Are you saying you won’t stay with us if we turn Humbug’s Gulch into our permanent base?” Morgan questions.

Al presses her lips together, and Alicia shifts her weight from foot to foot, waiting for Al to answer first. “I don’t know,” Al admits. “It’s something I’ll have to think over. I don’t think living near the Pioneers is safe.”

“We’re making a mistake if we think we can just ignore them,” Alicia pipes up. “Ginny wanted us to join her. I don’t think she’s going to put up with us moving into what she thinks is her backyard.”

“She doesn’t have any claim to this area,” Morgan says.

“She has more than one settlement here, Morgan,” Al exclaims. “She said so herself. And we have no fucking clue where they are. They have the upper hand.”

“Talk to Madison,” Morgan insists. “See what you can find out about them. Then we will make an informed decision.”

Al walks off, leaving Alicia to stay and continue arguing with Morgan. Alicia has run out of patience, though, so she uncrosses her arms and goes to follow after Al.

“Alicia!” Morgan calls. She stops and turns back, eyebrows raised. “You have to believe I’m trying to do what’s in everyone’s best interest,” Morgan says.

“I hope so.”

Wes intercepts Alicia on her way to the van. He’s got a wide smile on his face, and it instantly makes Alicia suspicious. “Hey,” he greets.

“Hey,” Alicia says. “What’re you smiling for?”

“I had an idea. Come with me?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Wes laughs. “Of course. But I think you should come along. It’ll be fun.”

“Do I need to bring anything?”

Wes shrugs. “A weapon. A walkie. I’ll bring the rest.” He motions toward Luci and Strand’s truck. “Meet me here in ten?”

“Okay.”

“Oh, one more thing,” Wes says. “You might want to wear something you don’t care about.”

Well, that means they’re doing something messy. Frankly, Alicia’s excited, and she rushes to the van to throw on some old clothes.

“What’re you doing?” Al asks. She’s lounging across her set of seats, a book in hand. She looks up as Alicia slides into a ratty pair of sweatpants.

Alicia hesitates. “Honestly, I think I might be going on a date.”

“What?”

Alicia laughs nervously. “I mean, Wes asked me out and I said I’d think about it, but I just agreed to go do something.”

“Do what?” Al asks sharply.

Alicia shrugs. “I’m hoping we’re going to paint. He said to wear something I don’t care about.”

Al sits up, book forgotten. “And you’re going?”

“Well, yeah,” Alicia says. She pulls a hoodie on and ties her hair back. “Oh! I almost forgot! Strand and Luci agree with us. They don’t think settling near the Pioneers is a good idea.”

Al nods. “June and John agree, too. They think we should be prioritizing getting Dwight back.”

Dwight. Alicia has a hard time keeping track of everyone they have to worry about as a group. “That’s a valid point,” Alicia says. “I have no idea how we’re going to do that without pissing off the Pioneers.”

“Yeah, I know.” Al looks Alicia up and down. “You’re seriously going out? It’ll be dark soon.”

“We have flashlights, and I have this.” Alicia pulls out the gun barrel. Some kind of emotion flickers in Al’s eyes, but it’s gone before Alicia has the chance to interpret it. Alicia gently hooks the gun barrel on her belt. She isn’t used to the weight of it yet. “We’ll be fine,” Alicia says. She still has the butterfly knife, too. The Glock’s with the rest of her belongings on her side of the van, but she doesn’t feel the need to take it. Wes should have a gun on him. He usually does.

“You feel safe going out there with him alone?” Al asks.

“Yes.”

Al nods warily. “Try not to be out too late. I’d rather not be woken up by you at two in the morning.”

Alicia rolls her eyes. “Seems like you can sleep through anything when you want to.”

Al raises her eyebrows. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

“Not at all,” Alicia lies. “We can talk later,” she adds when she sees Al about to protest. “I’ve got a date to go on.”

*

“This is a date, right?” Alicia asks. They walk about a mile up the road. Wes hauls the paint cans and paint brushes, and Alicia walks with her hands in the pocket of her hoodie. The longer the gun barrel hangs at her hip, the more comfortable its weight becomes.

“I mean, you never said yes,” Wes points out. “So technically…no? Unless you want it to be.”

Alicia laughs. “I told Al I was going on a date, so this better be a date.”

Wes grins. “Okay. It’s a date. But just so you know, I can totally do better than this.”

“Better than what?”

Wes stops walking and sets the paint cans down on the road. “I think maybe it’s time to paint something besides trees.” He waves his arm over the stretch of road in front of them. “So what should we paint?”

“Oh, I don’t –”

“C’mon,” Wes presses. “Anything. We’ll give it a shot.”

Alicia pulls her hands from her pockets and slides her sleeve up. She turns her left arm toward him. “You think we can recreate this?”

Wes’s eyes stay on the heart tattooed on Alicia’s arm for a few moments before he nods. “Absolutely. What color?”

Alicia selects navy blue, and they get to work. Wes has to keep checking Alicia’s arm for reference, but they do a pretty damn good job at translating the tattoo onto the pavement. Alicia swallows hard as she lays eyes on the finished spiraled heart. Even though she’s had the image tattooed on herself since the very beginning, it’s strange seeing it painted on the road in front of her, larger than she ever expected to see it. She remembers what happened to Matt, not for the first time ever, but she doesn’t feel crushing guilt this time. He was one of the people who died early on, before anyone had any idea what was coming for them, but standing on this road years later, Alicia finally feels like she can let go, at least of this one little piece of her life.

“I did it myself,” Alicia says.

“Hmm?”

“The tattoo,” she clarifies. She touches her fingertips to her arm. “I did it myself.”

“It looks pretty damn professional to me.”

Alicia cracks a smile. Her eyes don’t leave their painting. “No it doesn’t.”

“You could’ve fooled me.” He pauses. “You weren’t worried about getting an infection?”

“What? Oh, no, I did this years ago,” Alicia dismisses. “Before California fell.”

“Yeah,” Wes says carefully. “That was a long time ago.” He starts to gather up the paint and brushes. “You ever think about going back?”

“Back where?” Alicia asks. “California?” She snorts. “Hell no. I was in California not that long ago at this, um, ranch. Didn’t work out. And I know there’s nothing left of my home. We lived too close to Los Angeles. The bombs got it.”

“So you never want to go back?” Wes asks.

Alicia shakes her head. “There’s nothing left for me there.”

“I’m sorry,” Wes says suddenly. “I didn’t mean for this to –”

“It’s okay,” Alicia cuts in. “This was good. I needed to do this.”

Wes stares at her curiously but doesn’t press for details. “Not a terrible first date?”

Alicia smiles. “Not terrible at all.”

*

Alicia doesn’t know if Wes technically walks her back to the convoy or if she technically walks him back. They stop at his truck first, though, so she tells herself she walked him back. For some reason, that’s important to her. Makes her feel like she has some control over something. She waits for him to load the paint into the back, in spite of Strand’s complaints.

“We should paint again sometime,” Wes says.

“Yeah, we should,” Alicia agrees.

“Except next time, you’re going to get some paint on you,” Wes jokes. He looks down at the paint splotches on his shirt, on his arms and hands.

“Maybe you should just be more careful,” Alicia replies. They both grin, and they both start laughing when Strand tells Wes to hurry his ass up and get inside. “Go,” Alicia says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Hey,” Wes says. “Good luck with your mom.”

Alicia swallows hard. “Thanks.”

“I’m sure it’ll go well.”

Alicia nods, smiles one last time at Wes, then heads for the van. She enters as quietly as she can, but she drops that as soon as she sees Al’s lying awake on her back, a book held over her face.

“Still reading?” Alicia questions.

“Yep. How was the date?”

“Fine.”

“Just fine?”

Al lowers the book, and Alicia shrugs. “It went…well. It was nice. He’s nice.”

Al smirks. “You’re not good at talking about these things, are you?”

“Not at all.”

Al hums. “Alright. You don’t have to tell me about it.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Cool.”

“Cool?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Alicia pauses with one boot off, hand on the other. “You okay?” she asks.

“Yeah. Why?”

“I don’t know. You seem…weird.”

“You’re weird,” Al retorts.

Alicia takes her other boot off and drops it to the ground. She smiles, mostly to herself, then says, “I went on a _date_. I never thought I’d do that again.”

“Dates are easy,” Al says.

Alicia rolls her eyes. “Dates are fun. I guess I forgot that in the midst of society’s downfall.”

Al snorts. “You ready to marry him yet?”

Alicia laughs and sheds her sweatpants, swapping them for shorts. It was hot last night, and she’s not going to make the mistake of overdressing again. “Yeah, right,” Alicia says. “We can have a double wedding with John and June.”

“You could.”

“Oh, shut up,” Alicia says. She pulls her sweatshirt over her head. “It was one date. We aren’t getting married. I’m not even sure I like him.”

“You went on a date. You like him enough to try.”

Alicia rolls her eyes again and pulls on a tank top. “He asked me out,” Alicia says. “And it’s not like there’s anyone else, like, dying to go out with me.”

Al laughs. “Maybe you should meet more people, Alicia.”

“Maybe,” Alicia says. She sprawls out across her set of seats, propping her head up on her hand. “How’s your face feeling?”

Al rubs at her bruised jaw. “Could be worse.” The silence that falls over them is slightly uncomfortable, and it only gets worse for Alicia as she thinks back to last night. She considers mentioning it, but she doesn’t know how she’d even breach that subject. As Alicia finally mentally commits to saying something, Al asks, “So how serious is this thing you have with Wes anyway?”

Alicia has to stop herself from exhaling in relief. “It’s not that serious, Al,” Alicia assures her. “What’re you so worried for? Still don’t trust him?”

“He seems fine,” Al says.

“No, really, if you think there’s something to worry about –”

“I’m just making conversation, Alicia,” Al says. “That’s it. Have your fun.”

Alicia pauses, allowing herself a moment to think Al’s reaction over. “Oh my God,” Alicia says. “Are you jealous?”

“What?” Al exclaims. “That’s hilarious.”

“No, seriously.”

“Jealous of what, exactly?” Al questions. “You? C’mon, you know men aren’t my thing –”

“Then are you jealous of Wes?” Alicia asks. The moment the words leave her mouth, she wishes she could take them back, just to avoid the death glare she’s on the receiving end of.

“Don’t flatter yourself too much, sweetheart.”

“Then what’s your deal?” Alicia asks.

“I don’t see what the issue is.”

“Please,” Alicia scoffs. “Ever since Wes showed up, you’ve been acting weird.”

“I don’t know if you know me well enough to point out when I’m acting weird.”

“I’m gonna throw something at you,” Alicia mutters. “I swear to God. I hate to break it to you, Al, but I actually do know you well enough to figure out when you’re acting weird. And you’re acting weird.”

“I’m really not.”

“Liar.”

“That’s really bold, even for you, Alicia. I’m a journalist –”

“So tell me the truth!”

“The truth about what?” Al asks. They both stand at the same time. Alicia doesn’t realize how little space there is in the aisle until she’s standing in it with Al. The backs of her legs have to press against the seats behind her if she wants to avoid touching Al, and even then, they’re still sharing each other’s personal space. And Al’s annoyingly taller than Alicia.

“About why you’re acting weird,” Alicia says. Her voice comes out quieter now that she’s in Al’s space, now that Al’s sort of towering over her.

“Weird how?”

“How about you just tell me what you don’t like about Wes?” Alicia says. She goes to cross her arms over her chest but stops when she realizes there really isn’t enough space between her and Al to do that.

“What?”

“You obviously have a problem with him. You have since we first met him. Hell, he knows it, too. He pointed out that you’re, like, super protective –”

“You look out for your friends, Alicia. That’s all I’m doing.”

“Sure,” Alicia says. She swallows, bites down on the inside of her cheek. “So why don’t I believe you?”

Al’s back straightens, and Alicia immediately mimics Al, trying to give herself an extra height boost. She should’ve left her boots on. For half a second, she thinks maybe Al’s going to give her a matching bruise, but Al’s hands land on her hips as she tilts her head to the side and studies Alicia.

“I don’t know,” Al says calmly. “Why don’t you tell me your theory?”

“I don’t have a theory,” Alicia says.

“You have some kind of a guess, don’t you?”

“You can just tell me the truth, Al.”

“About what?”

“How about you start by telling me what the hell happened last night?” Alicia blurts. Just one more thing she instantly regrets saying aloud. Al balks, and now Alicia’s positive she’s going to get decked. Al’s hands don’t leave her hips, though Alicia catches the way Al’s hands shake, ever so slightly. Like she’s tempted to curl them into fists. Based on everything that Alicia has seen since she first met Al, she is incredibly skilled at controlling herself when she wants to. Most of the time.

“You told me to stay.”

“Yeah, but –”

“But what?”

“I –” Alicia falters. She hasn’t thought out what she wants to say, even if she wants to at least talk about what happened. Maybe it really isn’t that big a deal. Maybe she’s reading _way_ too far into everything. Jesus, ever since she joined Morgan on his quest to help people, she’s been doubting herself for no good reason. “We’re friends, aren’t we?” Alicia says. “Why can’t we just sit down and talk?”

“You want to sit down and talk?”

“Sure.”

Al shakes her head, staring off toward the back of the van. “What’s the point?” she asks. “You can’t spit out whatever you’re trying to say, and you think I’m lying anyway.”

“Then let’s sort it out.”

Al inhales sharply. “We have to be up early tomorrow. Better get some rest.”

*

Alicia spends the first hour lying awake, fuming silently, unable to decide whether she’s more comfortable facing the van or facing Al. She should’ve slept in pants, because the metal of the van is colder than expected now that her body is the only one taking up space. She can’t know for sure if Al is pretending to sleep or if she’s just actually asleep after the first ten minutes, but either way, it’s pissing Alicia off. By the time she thinks about sneaking out to see Wes, Alicia’s tired enough to fall asleep.

At least this time she doesn’t remember the nightmare very well. Something about Madison. Ginny. The Pioneers. At least this time she doesn’t wake up screaming. She wakes up when she hits the floor. Alicia grunts in pain, rolls herself off of her stomach onto her back, trying to gauge if the short fall did any damage. A light flicks on, and Al exhales heavily, leaning over the edge of her seats. She rubs her eyes with her index finger and thumb then focuses on Alicia.

“You okay?” Al mumbles.

“Fell.”

“Did you hurt yourself?”

“Don’t know,” Alicia says through her teeth. “Maybe my shoulder.”

“Hang on.” Al gets to her feet and carefully steps around Alicia. “You want a hand getting up? Which shoulder is it?”

“Left.”

Al nods and holds out her hand. Alicia takes it with her good arm and allows Al to yank her up. Al immediately steers Alicia back, forcing her to take a seat, and only then releases her hand. Al’s hands go to Alicia’s left shoulder, fingertips pressing against mostly bare skin thanks to Alicia’s tank top. Al prods at it a bit, watching Alicia for her reactions.

“Doesn’t seem to hurt too badly,” Al comments.

“It’s sore, I guess.”

“I don’t think it’s dislocated. Anything else hurt?”

“No,” Alicia says softly. She lifts her eyes to meet Al’s gaze as Al’s fingertips continue to press into her shoulder, unmoving.

“You should go back to sleep,” Al says. “We’re seeing your mom in a few hours.”

Alicia catches Al’s hand, forcing her to stop and turn back. “Why’d you do it?” Alicia asks. “Why’d you stay last night? Why did I wake up with you behind me?”

Al shrugs, shakes her hand free of Alicia’s grasp, and rubs at her temples as if she’s got an oncoming headache. “I just fell asleep, Alicia. I don’t know. I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.”

“I know I asked you to stay, but you didn’t have to. If you didn’t want to.”

Al waves her off. “Just forget it, okay?”

Alicia stands. “No.”

“No?” Al questions. Alicia nods, stands her ground, and Al sighs heavily. “Can we have this conversation later? It’s been a long day.”

“Every day is a long day, Al. Just – tell me what’s going on. Maybe I can help.”

Al blinks. “There’s nothing to help with,” she says. “You shouldn’t be worrying about me. You should worry more about yourself. Goodnight, Alicia.”

The lights go out. Alicia hears Al settling back in and has no choice but to do the same. She can’t go back to sleep. Her shoulder aches just enough to keep her conscious, as if her thoughts don’t serve the same purpose. Twenty minutes go by, and Alicia decides that’s it. She swings her legs off the seats, careful not to tweak her shoulder, and flicks the lights back on. She grabs ahold of Al’s arm and shakes her awake.

“Get up,” Alicia orders.

“What the fuck do you think –?”

“Get up,” Alicia repeats. “I have something to show you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	10. i do what i need to do

“Are you fucking crazy?” Al hisses.

“We’re fine,” Alicia says. “Don’t be a baby.” She aims the flashlight up the road and leads the way. She really should’ve stopped to put pants and a sweatshirt on. It’s kind of cold, and Alicia can tell Al is thinking the same exact thing, the way she’s got her arms cradled against her chest. Alicia’s lucky the van happens to be parked in the back of the convoy. They easily slip past Sarah on watch.

“What are we doing?” Al grumbles.

“I told you. I want you to see something.”

“It couldn’t wait until the sun fucking rose?”

They reach the spot, and Alicia stops walking. She aims the flashlight beam on the pavement right in front of them, on the spiral heart she helped Wes create. “This is what we did,” Alicia says. “On that date or whatever. We painted this.”

Alicia’s eyes lock onto Al’s face as she waits for Al to react. Al stares at the painting for a long time. Longer than she normally would, Alicia thinks. Alicia watches Al process what she’s seeing, watches her eyebrows pull together and her lips twitch as she thinks. “I know this,” Al says, pointing a finger down at the painting. “I’ve seen it somewhere.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know,” Al says. Alicia chuckles and shifts the beam of light onto her left arm. Al’s eyes follow it, and her eyebrows raise. “It’s tattooed on your arm,” Al says dumbly.

“Yes.”

“How long has that been there?”

“Years,” Alicia snorts.

“Why’d you paint it?” Al asks. And there it is. That spark of curiosity that Al gets in her eyes when someone starts answering her questions.

“Wes told me to pick something,” Alicia says, shrugging. “It was the first thing that came to mind.”

“What does it mean?”

“It’s a symbol,” Alicia says, smiling wryly.

“A symbol of what?”

Alicia grins. “My ex-boyfriend’s love. To be fair, he’s only my ex-boyfriend because he’s dead. He drew it.”

“Jake?”

“No. My high school boyfriend. Died at the very beginning.”

“You went on a date with a guy and had him paint something that was drawn by your ex-boyfriend.”

“Well, Wes doesn’t need to know that. Matt drew it, but I tattooed it, so it’s, like, half mine, right?”

Al gives Alicia a strange look but chooses not to comment on that. “Why’d you have to show me this right now?” Al asks. “Besides, it’s literally on your arm. You could’ve showed me in the van.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t quite have the same impact, does it?” Alicia questions. “I’ve stared at this tattoo hundreds of times. I guess I became desensitized to it. But seeing it like this…I feel like I can let go of that one painful piece of my past. I think I can finally accept what happened to Matt. And to me. At least, the stuff that happened early on. Having to give up my idea of what my future was going to be and flee the state. I think I can let go of it.”

Al nods. “Why did you bring me here?”

“I just…thought I should tell you. I couldn’t explain the significance to Wes entirely without making things weird. And I guess you’re, like, the best friend I have here right now.”

“Even counting Luci or Strand?”

“They’re more like my family at this point.” Alicia chews on her lower lip. “I don’t know. I guess I thought if I shared this one personal thing with you that maybe it’d clear the air between us or something.”

Al grunts. “We’re fine, Alicia. Don’t stress over it.”

“I am stressing over it.”

“You don’t owe me your past.”

Alicia’s visibly taken aback. “Says the journalist who wants to collect everyone’s life story.”

“I try not to make a habit of harassing my friends. Too much. Besides, you gave me enough in your interviews. You stuck to our deal. You don’t owe me anything else.”

“Well, I guess you got this story for free, then,” Alicia says. She hesitates, staring down at the painting, trying to force her hands not to shake. “Can you just tell me one thing?”

“Sure.”

Alicia pauses, choosing her words carefully. “Did you sleep on the same set of seats with me for my benefit or for yours?”

“Still hung up on this?” Al jokes weakly. She exhales, runs her fingers through her hair. “I didn’t even think about it, Alicia. I just fell asleep.”

“You didn’t leave. Even though I was already asleep. You stayed.”

“I said I would.”

“I guess I just figured – I don’t know.”

“That I would’ve left.”

“Yeah.”

“You know, believe it or not, I actually do understand these things,” Al says. “Nightmares. Not wanting to be alone. So, I guess to answer your question, I stayed for you. And for me. I meet a lot of people because of the work I do, but not all of them are worth staying for.”

Alicia swallows. “Yeah. I know.”

“It’s hard to find good people. Especially now that there aren’t nearly as many of us.”

“And the ones you do find leave or die.”

Al hums. “Exactly. Can we go back now? It’s fucking cold.”

Alicia cracks a smile. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. But we really need to try to sleep.”

“Why? Nervous about seeing my not-dead mom?” Alicia teases.

“She did try to steal my shit when we first met,” Al muses. “I’m pretty surprised she didn’t kill me outright.”

“She wouldn’t do that,” Alicia says, but she sounds uncertain to her own ears.

“She was desperate,” Al replies. “She would’ve done whatever it took to get back to her family. I understand that.”

They reach the van, and Al motions for Alicia to go first. Alicia immediately goes for her pair of sweatpants, opting to just yank them up over her shorts. Maybe Al will be able to lie down and go back to sleep, but Alicia knows she’ll be up until the sun rises, until they go to see Madison.

“I’m not nervous about seeing Madison,” Al says once she’s got the van locked up. “To answer your question. We parted on good terms. She helped me, and I like to think I helped her. But I am nervous.”

“Why?” Alicia asks quietly. She sits down, hands folded together in her lap, as Al settles back into her bed across the aisle.

“A lot of time has passed,” Al says. “She’s with the Pioneers now. We don’t know what her motivation for joining was, don’t know what she believes. There’s a lot we don’t know about her now, and I barely knew her to begin with.”

“Sounds like you’re more worried for me.”

“I am,” Al admits. “What if you don’t like what you learn about her?”

Alicia exhales heavily. “I don’t know. I’ve thought about it. If she asks me to join…I don’t know what I’ll say to her.”

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about.”

“I wouldn’t – I mean, I would never just up and join them without, you know, you and Luci and Strand.”

“And if we don’t join?”

“Then I guess I have to choose my mother or the people who’ve had my back since she supposedly died.”

*

Al actually falls back to sleep. Alicia doesn’t. She gets up an hour before she needs to get up and, for the first time in a long time, debates over what she should wear. Normally she just throws on whatever catches her eye first. Now, she digs through her clothes, selects her nicest pair of jeans and a black T-shirt she’s never worn before. It’s a basic outfit, but at least her clothes aren’t covered in dirt or dried blood. Maybe she stands a chance at looking like the daughter she once was, a long time ago. She wants Madison to look at her and see her child, not some coldblooded murderer.

Alicia knows about her mother’s willingness to do what she feels like she has to do. For every incident she knows about, she’s sure there are plenty more. But Alicia doesn’t feel like she has the right to judge. As Alicia commits to dragging a brush through her hair, she tries to hold back her thoughts about Madison’s potential place in the Pioneers’ hierarchy. She thinks back to the way Madison had brushed Ginny’s hand off of her shoulder, the way Madison seemed unconcerned about Ginny’s presence when she’d first laid eyes on Alicia.

Alicia manages to get all the knots out of her hair and ends up deciding to pull it back. As she sits down to tie the laces of her boots, Al starts to stir.

“You’re ready?” Al mumbles.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Give me a few minutes.”

“We have plenty of time,” Alicia assures her. She hesitates. “You think I should take a gun?”

“What would your mother say if you didn’t?”

“She’d probably ask me where the hell my gun was.”

“Take a gun.”

Alicia grabs an actual holster, anticipating that Madison will tell her off for keeping a gun jammed in her waistband. She secures the Glock in the holster and swallows hard. At her other hip, she hooks the gun barrel on her belt. She puts on her black leather jacket as an afterthought, transfers over the butterfly knife from her denim jacket. She folds her denim jacket up carefully, knowing Wes’s notes are still in its pocket. When Alicia turns around, she notices Al’s eyes on her.

“Staring is impolite, you know,” Alicia says. When Al doesn’t respond, Alicia shifts her weight and asks, “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Al says softly. “You just look like yourself again.”

Alicia blushes and quickly turns her back to Al again. “Yeah, well, let’s hope my mom thinks so, too.”

“Go make sure Luci and Strand are up, okay?” Al says. “I’m gonna get ready. I’ll meet you at their truck.”

“What about Wes?” Alicia asks. “Where is he going to stay?”

“Send him to Morgan. Morgan wants to be the leader, then he’s going to do all the problem solving for us.”

Alicia bites back laughter as she exits the van. It’s still early enough that it isn’t disgustingly hot yet, and Alicia is pleasantly surprised to find Luci and Strand up and ready to go when she arrives at their truck and peers through Strand’s open window. Wes, though, is nowhere to be found.

“Where’s Wes?” Alicia asks.

“Already worrying about her boyfriend,” Strand jokes, leaning his head out the window.

“He’s not my boyfriend! Oh my God. Don’t spread that around, and _don’t_ say anything to my mom. You know what she’s like.”

“It was a joke, Alicia, but now I’m starting to wonder if there’s some truth to it,” Strand says, grinning mischievously.

“Leave her alone,” Luci says, shoving at Strand’s arm. “Let her live her life how she wants. And don’t tattle to Madison.”

When Strand started listening to Luci, Alicia doesn’t know. Probably around the same time they ended up confined to the same truck together. A few weeks ago? A few months? Jesus, how long have they been a convoy? Time doesn’t pass the way it used to.

“Don’t worry,” Strand says. “Wes went with John. They’re going to attempt to catch some fish for us.”

“Catch fish?” Alicia questions.

“At the small lake a few miles west,” Luci informs. “They’ve already left.”

Alicia hears the back doors of the van slam shut, and a few moments later, Al appears at her side. Al’s got her bag slung over one shoulder, her rifle slung over the other. There’s a beanie on her head, even though it’s probably going to get hot later.

“Ready?” Al asks.

“Get in,” Strand calls from behind the wheel. The doors unlock, and Alicia gets in the back. It’s a little cramped with all of Wes’s stuff and Al’s bag, but the ride shouldn’t be unbearably long.

“You guys need to clean this place up,” Al complains.

“Tell Alicia’s boyfriend,” Strand replies.

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

Strand laughs. “Whoever he is, all this shit is his. Luci and I keep our stuff in the truck bed.”

“There’s probably enough room for his stuff in the bed, too,” Luci tells Strand. “We just have to rearrange some things.”

“I’m not rearranging my stuff for some stranger,” Strand dismisses. “He can live back there with all his shit.”

Alicia and Al exchange a look, but they both stay silent. Besides, the closer they get to the coffee shop, the more Alicia feels like she won’t be able to speak properly. Her leg bounces incessantly as Strand pulls into the parking lot of the long forgotten coffee shop. There’s no sign of anyone else, so Strand parks the truck and offers to clear the shop.

“Not by yourself,” Alicia blurts. She follows after him, gun barrel in hand, but Strand beats her to the entrance and kills a walker in the doorway.

“You want to help?” Strand asks. “Can you start dragging these bodies out of the way?”

Alicia nods and does just that. There are only three walkers in the immediate vicinity, and she hauls the bodies out back. It prevents her from worrying about what she’s going to say to her mother for a few minutes, at least.

“I think there’s something we need to address,” Strand says. He regroups with Luci, Alicia, and Al at the truck, glancing over his shoulder toward the road. There’s nothing there, so he says, “We should keep in mind that anything we tell Madison might go straight back to Ginny.”

“You don’t trust her?” Alicia questions.

Strand sighs. “It’s been a long time, Alicia. We don’t know where her allegiance lies anymore.”

“With me,” Alicia says. “I’m her child. And you’re – you’re her best friend.”

“I agree with Strand,” Al says. “We need to be careful what we tell her about our convoy.”

“She’s my mom,” Alicia argues.

“We aren’t asking you to lie,” Strand assures Alicia. “Just…maybe don’t tell her every little detail about us. Don’t tell her how many people we have. Don’t tell her where our campsite is. Things like that.”

“If you don’t trust her, how can we expect her to trust us?” Alicia asks. “You think she’s going to say anything about the Pioneers?”

“I don’t know, Alicia,” Strand admits. “For all we know, she could show up and ask to join us. I’m just saying we should be very careful with what we say.”

Alicia’s jaw clenches. “We’re going to start by telling her about Nick.”

Strand nods. “Do you want me to tell her?”

Alicia shakes her head. “No. It has to be me. I know – I know if the roles were reversed, I’d want to hear it from her.”

“It’s gonna be okay,” Luci says. She grasps onto Alicia’s shoulder, and Alicia inhales deeply. “There was nothing we could’ve done to save him.”

Alicia nods. As the sound of hooves on pavement grows closer and closer, Al’s hand lands on Alicia’s other shoulder. Madison rides into the parking lot, and Alicia can’t help but be surprised at how much Madison looks like any old Pioneer. The cowboy hat casts a shadow over her face and makes it harder to see Madison’s blonde hair. It’s cut slightly shorter than Alicia’s used to. Madison has on a jacket that’s similar in style to what Ginny had been wearing when they’d met, and as she dismounts her horse and walks closer, Alicia’s eyes hone in on the key patch on Madison’s jacket’s lapel.

“I just have to secure her,” Madison calls, motioning toward her horse. “I’ll be right inside.”

Al and Luci each squeeze Alicia’s shoulder at the same time, and Alicia takes the opportunity to brush them off. “I’m fine, guys,” Alicia whispers. “Geez.”

“We’re here for you,” Luci replies.

“I know, I just – stop trying to make me cry.”

That seems to lighten the mood somehow. Al and Luci release Alicia and follow Strand into the coffee shop. He takes it upon himself to push two tables together and drag enough chairs over. Alicia lingers near the doorway, waiting for Madison to round the corner. Alicia wrings her hands until Madison comes into view.

“Alicia,” Madison says. It’s all the invitation Alicia needs, and she throws herself into her mom’s arms. She thinks she would hold on forever if she could. She doubts her mom would mind. She always tried so hard to keep them all together. Tears prick Alicia’s eyes before she can stop them, and she tightens her arms around Madison’s neck. Alicia squeezes her eyes shut, but she can’t stop her body from shaking.

“Mom,” she whispers.

“It’s okay,” Madison says. “I’m here now.”

Alicia shakes her head, sniffling. “It’s not okay, Mom. He’s dead. Nick is dead. We couldn’t – we couldn’t save him. It’s just me and you now, Mom.”

Madison stiffens, and after a long moment in silence, she nods and moves one hand to the back of Alicia’s head. “It’ll be alright,” Madison finally says. Alicia doesn’t have to see Madison to know she’s struggling to keep it together. She’s trying to be strong for Alicia.

“Nothing about this is alright, Mom.”

“I know. But we’ll figure something out, okay?”

Alicia nods. She wants to believe they can be like they used to be. She wants to believe they can found their own settlement again, build a home, have a community. But Nick is gone. Their family has fundamentally changed, possibly irreparably. And Alicia isn’t sure Strand would be on board with building something new, not after how the stadium fell. Now that Alicia knows her mom is alive, she can’t fathom allowing Madison to attempt to die to save her again. But she can’t abandon her friends. She won’t leave them to be a Pioneer.

“Luci wanted you to know that Nick didn’t die alone,” Alicia says. “Luci, Strand, and I – we were all with him when he died. He was with people who loved him, okay?”

Madison swallows hard. “How did it happen?”

“He was shot,” Alicia whispers. She clutches onto the back of Madison’s jacket, trying to keep her hands from trembling. “In the chest. There was nothing anyone could’ve done.”

“How did he –?”

“It was the Vultures, Mom,” Alicia says. She won’t throw Charlie under the bus. Not after everything. She’s dying to tell Madison everything, but she can’t risk it. It took her a long time to work out her differences with Charlie. She isn’t going to throw her progress away. “We were – we hunted them down for what they did to the stadium. To you. We thought you were dead, and we went to avenge you. It was a bad idea, but we killed most of them. I killed Mel. And we lost Nick in the process. We should’ve just let it go, but we – I – couldn’t. I couldn’t live knowing they’d killed you and our entire community without doing something about it.”

“It’s not your fault, Alicia.”

“Of course it is.”

“I know you did your best.”

Alicia struggles not to sob. The silent tears are bad enough. “We needed you, Mom. We didn’t know what to do without you. Everything you built for us was gone. You were gone.”

“I’m here now. And I will be here for you. I promise.”

Alicia doesn’t ask how that’s supposed to work now that Madison’s with the Pioneers. She figures Al will ask Madison how that happened, anyway. What Alicia’s really dying to know is –

“Why didn’t you come after us sooner?”

“I tried, baby,” Madison says. She strokes Alicia’s hair, and Alicia’s teeth sink into her lip hard enough to hurt. “I barely escaped the stadium with my life. The Pioneers found me half dead a few days later. I couldn’t refuse their help if I wanted to live, but I had to play by their rules.”

Alicia nods as her blood runs cold. She barely stops herself from asking what their rules are. “We should head in,” Alicia says. “I know Luci and Strand are dying to see you.”

“Okay,” Madison agrees. Reluctantly, Alicia steps out of the embrace and swipes at her eyes with the backs of her hands. Madison’s always been too observant for her own good. Maybe it’s the counselor part of her. She snags Alicia’s wrist and flips her hand over before Alicia knows what’s happening. “What’s this?” Madison asks quietly. She runs her finger over the scar seared into Alicia’s palm.

“It’s, um, it’s a long story,” Alicia mutters. She tries to close her fingers, but Madison stops her, examining the scar.

“What did this?”

Alicia shows Madison her other palm where a similar scar is and winces as Madison’s eyes widen. “A propeller,” Alicia says.

“A…propeller?” Madison says slowly. “What do you – where did you get a propeller from? And why were you holding it?”

“We crashed a plane,” Alicia says. “And the dead were closing in. I used a broken off piece of the propeller to save us.”

“At the expense of your hands.”

“My hands are fine, Mom. They’re just scars. They work fine.”

As Alicia starts to pull her hands away, she notices something herself. She grabs onto Madison’s wrist and turns Madison’s hand over. Stretching from the back of Madison’s hand and disappearing up into her sleeve are extensive burn scars. Alicia only recognizes them because she treated the one Strand received when the stadium fell.

“Like I said,” Madison says softly. “I barely escaped with my life. I was lucky the Pioneers have doctors on hand. I owe them everything.” Alicia’s eyes widen. Madison just smiles and takes her hands back, straightening out her jacket. “We should go inside, hon. Stop making them wait.”

Alicia nods and leads the way in. Strand, Luci, and Al are already seated, but they all stand as Alicia enters with Madison at her side.

“Madison,” Strand says. He grins, holding his arms out. “It’s been too long.”

“It’s so good to see you, Victor,” Madison says. She hugs him first, then Luci, then turns to Al. “Al,” Madison says. “I guess you aren’t going anywhere. You didn’t strike me as the settling type when we met.”

Al smiles. “Normally I’m not.”

Madison nods and holds her hand out. Alicia’s eyes land on the burn scars. Guilt washes over her. They should’ve stayed in the area, at least. They shouldn’t have ran, shouldn’t have assumed Madison could’ve never survived closing herself in with a bunch of walkers, even if they were on fire. Of course she survived. That’s what her mom does best.

Al shakes Madison’s hand without hesitating, maybe without even noticing the scars, but if Alicia knows Al, then Al definitely notices. Maybe she’s just too polite to say anything. Madison, though, sets a curious gaze on Al’s jaw. “What happened there?” Madison asks. “I don’t think you had that bruise back at Paradise Ridge.”

“Oh, I didn’t,” Al says. She motions toward Alicia. “Your daughter decked me in her sleep. Not a big deal.”

“I’m not going to ask,” Madison says. She removes her hat and sets it on the counter before pulling out an empty chair and sitting. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions. I have a lot myself.”

They all take their seats, and Alicia ends up squished between Madison and Al. Al reaches for her bag, and Strand says, “Oh, don’t tell me you brought the damn camera.”

“I’m a journalist,” Al says. “What do you expect? Besides, the last tape I have of you claims Madison is dead, and clearly she isn’t.”

“It’s okay,” Madison says. She runs her fingers through her hair. “You can get some footage. But if you think I’m giving you another full interview –”

“No interviews,” Al agrees. “Got it.”

“Do we have to say anything or can you just get us sitting next to each other?” Alicia asks.

Al laughs. “I can fill in the blanks later, so yes, you can just sit next to each other.”

Alicia relaxes a little. The camera doesn’t stay on them long, not even long enough to make Alicia start to fidget. The camera gets tucked back away, and Al leans back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.

“We never heard you on the walkie,” Strand says.

“I only recently came into range,” Madison says. “I was just transferred to Paradise Ridge a few days ago. I guess you could say I was promoted.”

“Transferred from where?” Al asks.

“Another settlement,” Madison answers. “Farther north. More than thirty miles away.”

“How do you stay in contact with them?” Al questions.

“I don’t,” Madison says, smiling. “That’s up to Ginny. She manages all the facilities.”

“And what do you do?” Al presses.

“Al,” Alicia warns.

“It’s okay,” Madison says, laying her hand on Alicia’s arm. “I’m part of leadership. I do what I need to do.”

“Like?” Strand questions.

“Well surely you know what happened at the oil fields by now,” Madison says. “Unless your leader doesn’t share that kind of information with you.”

“The Pioneers took it,” Strand says sharply. “Kept one of ours.”

Madison nods. “I helped lead that operation. I was left in charge when Ginny returned to base. I do what I’m told.”

“You don’t make decisions,” Luci says.

“I didn’t say that.”

“What’re they really about, Madison?” Al asks. “What’s their goal?”

“I’d think Ginny would’ve filled you in on that,” Madison says. “When you infiltrated our base with my daughter.”

“She said you want to rebuild the world,” Al says. “And help people on a large scale.”

“That about sums it up.”

“Look, we’ve heard some stories,” Alicia interjects. “And they don’t make the Pioneers sound too good.”

“You’re talking about Janis and Tom,” Madison says. “They stepped out of line. They caused problems. You have to play by the rules if you want to stay.”

“What rules?” Al asks.

Madison smiles. “You’d have to join us to find out, Al. I’m pretty sure Ginny offered you and Alicia a spot, even after you went for a swim in our backup water supply. We had to purify the water all over again since that walker contaminated it.”

“Sorry,” Al says nonchalantly.

“Not the first time. Won’t be the last,” Madison says.

“You know we can’t join you,” Al says. “Might as well just lay it out there.”

“Because of Morgan.”

“Not just because of him,” Al says. “There are numerous factors.”

“I’m sure.”

“Mom,” Alicia cuts in. “We were at a police station yesterday. One of our friends lived there. When we got there, it was burning down. Do you know anything about that?”

Madison’s lips part as she thinks that over. “I don’t,” she says. “But I can tell you we don’t just go around lighting buildings on fire. That’d be a waste of resources.”

“You don’t happen to know anyone by the name of Isabelle, do you?” Al asks.

“Who’s Isabelle?” Luci questions.

“An old friend,” Al dismisses.

“Isabelle?” Madison says. Her lips press together, and after a few moments, she shakes her head. “No. Not that I recall. Can you describe her?”

“Tall. Short, dark hair. Green eyes. Really pale. She was a pilot, you know, before the end of everything, obviously.”

Madison shakes her head again. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

Al nods. “Thank you.”

“I’m sure she’s out there somewhere,” Madison muses. “I bet pilots are in really high demand right now. And what’s this I heard about you crashing a plane?”

Al winces. “Yeah. That would be me.”

“I’ll take half the blame for not being in the cockpit like I was supposed to be,” Strand says. “But who could’ve predicted we’d have to deal with engine failure?”

“I could have,” Alicia says. “Or I could have at least predicted we’d have a problem.”

“It was a mistake,” Al says firmly. “And we learned from it. I will not attempt to fly anything else ever again.”

Madison grabs Alicia’s hand and turns her palm toward the group before Alicia can protest. “I know I wasn’t actually dead, just absent, but I thought you’d take better care of Alicia than this, Victor.”

“I should’ve been there, and I wasn’t,” Strand says. “Last minute complication. I’m sorry.”

Madison nods. Alicia wriggles her hand free and mutters, “It actually could’ve been a lot worse, Mom. Al kinda saved us.”

“At least we didn’t hit a mountain,” Luci agrees. “Besides, I got the worst of it.” She pulls her shirt aside just enough to expose the circular scar left behind by the pole.

“Well, now I’m really not allowed to die,” Madison says. It’s half a joke, but no one laughs. “Obviously you guys take too many risks when I’m not around.”

“You can blame Morgan for that one,” Al says. “It was his idea to fly in the first place.”

“I think I’ll need to meet this Morgan guy sometime.”

“It’s probably not worth it,” Alicia mumbles.

“A plane, Alicia? You had a journalist fly a plane, and you got in it?”

“Hey, I did alright,” Al defends. “At least until the engine failed.”

“Why on _earth_ would you try to fly?” Madison asks.

“We were trying to help someone,” Alicia answers. “It didn’t work out too well.”

“You tried to help someone?”

“He said he needed help. He was too far to drive to. And it – it was Logan, Mom. He tricked us to get his denim factory back. He owned it back when things like deeds mattered, and we were living in it. He wanted us out. And it worked. We flew a plane over a mountain, crashed, and lost the factory.”

Madison sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose between her index finger and thumb. “You couldn’t have just chosen a place to settle down in and not caused any trouble, could you?”

“When have you ever known us not to cause trouble?” Strand says, grinning.

“I can’t say I anticipated that you would hunt down the Vultures, but why choose to help people after that?”

“You can thank Morgan for that,” Alicia says. “He convinced us to be better. I mean, I’m a murderer, Mom. It can’t get much worse.”

Madison frowns and looks incredibly troubled for a quick moment. “Sure it can,” she says. “And I know for a fact you’re not the only murderer at this table.”

For a moment, everyone shifts uncomfortably. Alicia guesses she’s never really given it too much thought, but they’ve all had to kill at some point. To save themselves. To save others. Sometimes for other reasons. Revenge. Sometimes you’re so angry, you point a gun at a twelve year old and almost pull the trigger.

“Now that we’ve established that we’ve all had blood on our hands at one point or another,” Strand says, “maybe we should talk about what happens next.”

“And what’s that?” Madison asks.

“What are we going to do once this meeting ends?” Strand questions. “Are we going back to our convoy while you go back to the Pioneers? Are you coming with us? Are we splitting off and creating our own group, just the five of us?”

“We could, couldn’t we?” Luci says, eyes lighting up.

“I think it’s a little more complicated than that,” Madison says. “I know this is the last thing you want to hear, but I can’t just walk away from them.”

“You can’t or don’t want to?” Strand asks.

“Both,” Madison answers. “What they’re doing is important for the future of our species, sure, but I also owe them a debt I can’t really pay off.”

“How so?” Strand asks.

“They saved my life,” Madison tells him. “I didn’t escape the stadium fully intact, Victor. I led a herd of burning walkers into an enclosed area. I ran out of bullets, except for the one I saved for myself and ultimately never used, and I had a hell of a time killing those fuckers with a knife.”

Madison rolls up her sleeves and shows the burn scars in their full glory. The backs of her hands. Her arms, almost up to the elbow. She unbuttons the first few buttons of her shirt and pulls it aside to reveal even more scars littering her neck and chest where the walkers must’ve touched her.

“I would’ve died on the side of the road without them,” Madison says.

“We should’ve stayed,” Alicia blurts. “We should’ve stayed nearby –”

“You had no way to know I’d make it out,” Madison interrupts gently. “This wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, except for the Vultures. But it sounds like you made them pay for that.”

Alicia flinches. Luci averts her gaze, and Strand’s hands curl into fists on the table. His own scar from that night is fully visible. He’d gotten it while saving Alicia.

“Almost all of them paid,” Strand finally says. “Mel and Ennis certainly did.”

“Ennis’s death is what got Nick killed,” Alicia snaps. She shakes her head. “We should’ve just left them the fuck alone to begin with.”

“They didn’t leave us alone,” Strand reminds.

“Cole was a good enough shot,” Alicia mutters. “We could’ve picked them off from behind our walls.”

“That’s all in the past now,” Madison jumps in. “We can’t change it. Any of it. We can just go forward.”

“Can we?” Alicia questions. She blinks, trying to stop the wave of tears threatening to make another appearance. “Come on, Mom. We both know the Pioneers don’t want us here if we aren’t going to join them. Morgan isn’t going to just go away, and I’m not – even if we did choose another part of the country to help people in, I’m not just going to leave you behind. Not again. We never should’ve left you in the first place.”

“I wanted you to go,” Madison says softly. “I wanted you all to be safe.”

“Nowhere is safe!” Alicia bursts. She slams her hand down on the table, and everyone but Madison jumps. “There is nowhere you can go, nothing you can do, to make it safe. We can go, right now. Choose a state. Choose a _country_. I don’t care. We won’t be safe, but at least we’ll have our family.”

Madison inhales deeply, closes her eyes. “Ginny wanted me to reiterate her offer. You are all more than welcome to join our ranks.”

“This is bullshit, Madison, and you know it,” Strand says. “Look at what we did with the stadium. We could do it again. We don’t need them. Any of them.”

“I can’t do that again, Victor,” Madison says. “Not after what happened.”

“There’s a mansion,” Strand continues. “Shit, there are tons of mansions with fully stocked wine cellars, I’m sure. We could choose an isolated one. Secure it. We could live out our lives in relative peace. Why are we so hung up on dealing with other people?”

“There’s nothing stopping you from choosing a mansion and living out your life,” Madison says. She stands and grabs her hat off the counter, places it gingerly back on her head. “I can’t make that choice anymore.”

“Why not?” Strand demands. “They’re forcing you to stay? They’ll kill you if you go?”

Madison’s lips purse. “The less you know, the better. Especially if you want nothing to do with us.”

“You can’t go,” Alicia blurts. She hops up fast enough to knock her chair over and grasps onto Madison’s arm. “You can’t leave me again, Mom.”

“I’m close by,” Madison says. She covers Alicia’s hand with her own. “You can always call me. I’ll always be there when you need me. Or you can come with me.”

“I can’t leave them, either,” Alicia says quietly. “But I can’t – I don’t know how to do this without you.”

“Do what without me?” Madison asks gently.

“Anything. We killed most of the people responsible for the stadium’s fall, and it didn’t help, Mom. It didn’t fix us. It made everything worse. We need your help – we need _you_.”

“I wish I could stay.”

“You just have to choose to,” Strand says. “We’ll figure out the rest together. We always have.”

“It’s too dangerous,” Madison says. “You don’t know these people like I do. They won’t stop.”

“We survive, Madison,” Strand presses. “We’re good at it. We can do it together.”

“I can’t,” Madison says firmly. “But I can promise you I’ll be around. I need you to protect her, Victor.”

“She doesn’t make it easy,” Strand replies.

“I know you’ll do your best. But I’ve already lost my husband – twice. Now I’ve lost my son. I can’t lose her, too. Keep her safe.”

“You have my word.”

“No,” Alicia interjects. “Stay here, Mom. If you want to make sure I’m safe, _stay with us_.”

“I can’t,” Madison says. “One day you’ll understand why. I just hope that day isn’t soon.”

“Don’t go,” Alicia pleads. Her grip on Madison’s arm tightens, but Madison pries her arm free without much difficulty. Alicia clamps down on her hand instead, and to her surprise, Madison squeezes back.

“I’ll see you again,” Madison says. “We can keep meeting up as long as you’re in the area. We can talk on the radio.”

“The radio isn’t safe,” Alicia says. “It never has been safe.”

“We’ll find a way,” Madison assures her. “But I have to get back. Ginny will start asking questions.”

“Ginny’s going to ask questions anyway, isn’t she?” Al questions.

“Of course she is. I don’t want to have to explain why I’m late on top of that.” Madison pauses, looking between Strand and Luci. “Can you two give me a minute with Al and Alicia here?”

Strand doesn’t bother to hide the suspicious look that crosses his face, but he nods and walks out with Luci. The door bangs shut behind them, startling Alicia.

“What’s going on?” Al asks.

“I need to know what your intentions are with my daughter,” Madison says matter-of-factly. She even puts her hands on her hips.

“My – what?” Al laughs. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on,” Madison scoffs. “Ginny told me you two made it obvious there’s something going on between you, and I –”

“Wait, hold on,” Alicia interrupts. “There is _nothing_ going on between me and Al, Mom. We’re just friends.”

Madison’s eyebrows raise. “That’s really interesting to hear, Alicia. Ginny was very convinced that you two –”

“We’re not,” Alicia says through her teeth. “I don’t know why Ginny would think that.” _First Wes, now Ginny? What in the fuck?_

“She said you two were a little handsy,” Madison says.

Even though Alicia’s face burns bright red, she says, “We were not.”

Madison hums. Her eyes narrow as they lock onto Al’s face. “Yeah, what Ginny said better not be true. But if it is,” Madison says, jabbing her finger against the center of Al’s chest, “you better take damn good care of my daughter. I know I’m holding Strand to it, but you better protect her, too. With your life.”

Al brushes Madison’s hand aside and follows up the movement by crossing her heart. “You have my word, Madison. I won’t let anything happen to her.”

“Good,” Madison says.

“But you better pass word along to Ginny that we aren’t together,” Al adds.

“I’ll be sure to let her know.”

“Good,” Al says.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Al, but if you hurt my daughter –”

“Oh my God, Mom!” Alicia exclaims. “Stop. We’re literally just friends. You don’t need to threaten her.”

Madison smiles thinly. “Alright then. Take care of yourselves.” Madison adjusts her hat and places her hand on the side of Alicia’s face, plants a kiss on Alicia’s forehead. “Stay strong,” Madison whispers. “You’ll see me again.”

Madison walks out to say goodbye to Luci and Strand, leaving Alicia in the coffee shop with Al. Alicia’s too dumbfounded to say much of anything, and her face is still embarrassingly red.

“Well, that was something,” Al finally says. “Geez, what is it with people thinking we’re together?”

“I don’t know, but it’s not funny anymore.”

“Yeah, it was never funny to begin with.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Alicia says. “She’s – my mom can be a lot.”

“She’s protective. Nothing wrong with that.”

“Yeah, but she’ll gut you if I die.”

Al grins, but it slides quickly when she sees the look on Alicia’s face. “Wait, are you serious?”

“I mean, maybe she’ll just shoot you. I don’t know. You better hope I die on Strand’s watch rather than on yours, though.”

“How about you just don’t die, and then there’s no problem?”

Alicia shrugs. “That works, too.”

Al nods. “Okay, well, let’s go back to the truck.”

They make it outside in time to see Madison mount her horse. Madison waves at them before she takes off down the road. Alicia watches her until she disappears over a hill off in the distance.

“She can’t leave,” Strand says bluntly. He unbuttons his shirt halfway. Sweat’s already starting to drip down his face. Al pulls the beanie from her head, squinting against the sunlight as she joins Alicia in staring out the way Madison had gone.

“They’ll kill her if she does,” Luci agrees. “She couldn’t say it, but that’s what she meant.”

“We have to get her out of there,” Alicia says.

“How?” Strand questions. “What’s your plan for taking on the Pioneers? You two couldn’t even sneak in when their ranks were thinned out without getting yourselves caught. How are we supposed to steal Madison and escape from this hell state?”

“I haven’t gotten that far yet,” Alicia says defensively. “But we can’t just leave her there.”

“This was our chance,” Strand says grimly. “If she’d agreed to join us, we could’ve drove off and never come back. Janis was telling us about this settlement that supposedly exists out in Virginia. We could try that, except we can’t, because Madison already left.”

“She’s afraid,” Al pipes up. Like Strand, she starts popping buttons on her shirt as sweat starts to bead on her forehead. Al takes the shirt off altogether, baring her arms to the ruthless sun, and ties it around her waist.

“Madison’s not afraid,” Strand dismisses.

“No, she is,” Al argues. “There were specific moments – it was just a flash, but I’m good at reading people. Comes with the job. She’s afraid of them.”

Strand exhales heavily. “She should be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favorite chapters so far (I'm also fond of chapter 12, so stay tuned), so I hope you enjoyed it! As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	11. there is no right answer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I edited this last night. I had a long day at work and have another long day tomorrow, but I'll leave this here for you. Hope you enjoy it!

The ride back to camp occurs in silence. Strand drives, one hand on the wheel, the other hanging out the window. Luci stares out her window the entire way, hands folded together in her lap. Al stares straight ahead, right at the back of Strand’s headrest, Alicia thinks. She doesn’t say a word. And Alicia’s more nervous than ever. She knows her mom can handle herself. That doesn’t stop her from worrying about what the Pioneers – what Ginny – could do to her.

They’re parking just as John’s truck pulls up. John and Wes hop out with quite the supply of fish, and Wes grins widely as Alicia walks over.

“Hey,” he greets. He pats the cooler he’s hauling. “I caught more than John did, believe it or not.”

“More than John?” Alicia says. “Impossible.”

“Apparently not,” Wes says. “John wants me to go with him again. Says I’m lucky. But hey, who cares who caught more, right? At least we’re gonna eat well tonight.” Alicia musters up a smile, but Wes sees right through it. “What’s wrong?” he asks. He sets the cooler down. Alicia almost wants to ask why they bother bringing the fish back in coolers if they have no ice but figures there’s no point. Besides, the answer is probably just that this is the easiest way. “It didn’t go well?” Wes guesses.

“No, it was fine,” Alicia says. “It’s just – I have a lot to think about. There’s a lot of stuff to process, and I just –”

“No, I get it,” Wes says quickly. “Look, if you wanna talk later, you know where to find me. I’m gonna get this cooler over to John and we’re gonna start cooking, so make sure you show up on time so I can get you the best fish, alright?”

Alicia nods. “Thanks, Wes.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Do you need help with that?” Alicia asks, motioning to the cooler.

“Nah, I got it.”

“It looks heavy.”

Wes shrugs and lifts the cooler with a grunt. “It is,” he says. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

He could’ve just said yes to get her to spend more time with him, but he’s willing to give her the space she needs. And he’s more than capable of carrying that cooler by himself. Alicia has to tear her eyes away from his arms and remind herself it’s impolite to stare. Even if it’s in admiration. She watches Wes meet up with John by their fire pit, watches John wave his arms around as he explains what they’re going to do. Wes grins and nods the whole time before they get to work, and Alicia finally stops staring and heads to the van.

Al’s already there, seated with a notebook in her lap, scrawling away. She doesn’t look up as Alicia enters, only acknowledges her presence with a muttered, “Hey.”

Alicia feels heavy. Weighed down. How much of it belongs to the knowledge she now has and how much of it is actually physical, she doesn’t know. So she starts stripped. She removes the holster and the Glock first, dropping it to the ground and kicking it beneath her seats. The gun barrel goes under the seat next. Then her boots. She sheds her jacket, throws it on top of her denim jacket. Al doesn’t seem to notice what Alicia’s doing until she’s working her way out of her jeans.

“Hey,” Al says sharply. The notebook closes. “What’re you doing? Keep your clothes on.”

“I can’t,” Alicia says. She leans over to pull her jeans off and kicks them aside.

“You see, this is why people think we’re together –”

“Now’s not the time for jokes, Al!”

Al holds her hands up in surrender, watching Alicia warily. “Do we need to talk about this?”

“About what?”

“Everything that happened at the coffee shop?”

“Do you want me to cry on you?”

“Not…really?”

“Then we shouldn’t talk,” Alicia says. She yanks her T-shirt over her head, and Al turns around, exhaling in exasperation.

“Please, put something on.”

Alicia shoves her blankets off her set of seats and drops down onto them on her stomach. She inhales sharply as her skin presses to the cool metal, but it’s a nice feeling on such a hot day. “You can look,” Alicia grumbles. “I don’t give a fuck.”

“Okay, well, I do. At least throw a blanket over –”

“It’s too hot for blankets.”

“A tank top? Some shorts?”

“Would you feel better if I was wearing a bikini instead of underwear?”

“Is that a trick question?” Al asks.

“I’m just saying it’s no different,” Alicia says. She closes her eyes. “So there really shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Well, when I do the same thing, you don’t get to complain,” Al says.

“Just go back to writing.” Alicia’s eyes pop open. “Wait, what are you working on?”

Al smiles wryly from across the aisle. She flips her notebook back open and picks up her pen. “I’m filling in the gaps, Alicia,” she answers. “Madison is alive. She didn’t want to talk on camera, so I’ll explain it. To do that, I need to actually remember what was said. At least enough to paraphrase.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“It _is_ my job, Alicia.”

“Right. Most people stopped doing their jobs when they stopped needing them to survive under capitalism.”

“My job was never about that. My job is still important. Even if only to me.”

“You really care,” Alicia says.

“You sound like that’s hard to believe,” Al replies.

“No, I mean – you really care about our story. My story. My mom’s story. Strand and Luci’s stories. It’s not a job. It’s your life.”

“It took you that long to figure it out?”

“No. It took me that long to actually believe it.”

“I do care,” Al says. “And I know I won’t be the only person that cares when all of this ends.”

“How can you be so sure it’ll end?”

“The dead haven’t wiped us all out yet,” Al says. “And humans can be pretty resourceful when we have to be. I’m sure it’ll end. Might even be in our lifetime. There are people who are making sure we’ll have a future.”

“The Pioneers.”

Al grunts. “Maybe they’re one. Jury’s still out.”

“Then…you mean whatever group Isabelle is with.”

“Possibly.”

Alicia sits up. “You really think someone’s going to be here in the future. Someone’s going to study this period of time in a high school history course.”

Al laughs and scratches the back of her neck. “I mean, sure. It might take a few – or many – decades, and it probably won’t be exactly the same as before, but I’m sure it’ll happen.”

“How can people think about the future?” Alicia wonders aloud. “I can barely think beyond tomorrow. I’m too worried about staying alive in the moment. Thinking about the future is…”

“Is what?” Al prompts.

“Dangerous.”

“Some people need the idea of a future that’s worth living for to keep themselves going,” Al says. “They need to believe it’s possible, otherwise why not just off yourself right now?”

“That’s a valid question.”

Al smiles. “I did take some philosophy courses in college, you know. We thought about what the meaning of life was.”

“Did you? Sadly, I never got the college experience, so I never took a philosophy class.” When Al doesn’t say anything, Alicia takes the bait. “So what’s the meaning of life?”

“That’s the thing,” Al says, grinning mischievously. “There is no one meaning of life. Hell, maybe life has no meaning at all. That’s up to you to decide. There’s no right answer.”

“If life has no meaning, why live at all?”

Al points her pen at Alicia. “Exactly.”

“Exactly _what_?”

“You keep living,” Al says. Her eyes lock with Alicia’s. Al tucks the pen behind her ear and leans back, crossing one leg over the other. “You get up, day after day, even though the world is the shittiest it has ever been in all of human history. You keep living. Why?”

“I don’t know.”

Al shrugs. “I think if there was no meaning in your life, you wouldn’t bother.”

“Maybe I won’t.”

Al snorts. “No, you will. I know you, Alicia. You aren’t one to put a bullet in your head and quit. Not when the people you love still need you. Not when you still need them.”

“Is that the answer? People? People give our life meaning?”

“Maybe,” Al says nonchalantly. “I told you. There is no right answer.”

*

Alicia’s glad she never got the chance to take a philosophy course. Her brain hurts. The metal beneath her warms up before long, and now all her exposed skin sticks to it, which is pretty nasty. But the worst part is, she can’t stop thinking. Not just about the meaning of life – if it has any meaning – but about the Pioneers. Her mom. Her mom’s place in the Pioneers. The fact that Strand guessed – and probably with a lot of accuracy – that Madison literally cannot leave the Pioneers without severe repercussions. But even with all of that, one thing keeps coming back to Alicia.

_She’s afraid_.

_She should be_.

She needs to free her mom. She doesn’t have the slightest idea how she’s going to pull it off, but she can’t leave her there. If it were Alicia, Madison wouldn’t give up. She would die trying. But Alicia hopes to avoid dying in the process. She’s going to free Madison, one way or another. She’ll get her back. But she has to be smart about it.

“Maybe you should’ve been a philosopher instead of a journalist,” Alicia says. The only sound in the van is the persistent scratching of Al’s pen on paper, and it’s starting to drive Alicia nuts.

Al scoffs. “Why? So I could teach philosophy at a university and publish a few papers? Pass.”

“Sounds like you enjoyed philosophy, though.”

“I enjoy journalism more.”

“Yeah, but what does that even consist of?” Alicia asks. “Publishing some papers?”

“A lot more than that.”

“Like?”

“I was in literal warzones, Alicia. Getting the story. Shit, my brother died without me because I was off investigating the country’s use of the National Guard when they started firing at the fucking Army. Or maybe the Army started firing at the National Guard. I couldn’t really tell who started it, but it was happening. And I got the story.”

“Wait, what?” Alicia says. She sits up, making a face as her skin peels away from the warm metal of the van. “They were firing at each other? Where?”

Al pauses for a moment, thinks back. “San Diego.”

“ _What?_ ”

Al nods. “Meanwhile, my family was dying in Houston. Lucky me. But I got the fucking story.” Al huffs and shakes her head. “Sure did me a lot of good, didn’t it?”

“You were in California?” Alicia asks. “At the very beginning?”

“Yeah. The whole country was falling apart, but the west coast was exploding with these strange outbreaks. Of course I was there. Why?”

Alicia falters. “I don’t know. It just seems weird. You were only a couple hours from where I was when this all started.”

Al pauses, her eyebrows pulling together. “Yeah, I guess that’s weird,” she mutters. “I don’t know how the hell you got out of LA. I barely made it out of San Diego before the bombs dropped.”

“Strand,” Alicia says. “He had a boat. We managed to get to Mexico. Ended up in Southern California. It’s a long story.”

“Seems like a lot of the stories are long now, huh?”

“Long and fucking unbearable,” Alicia groans.

Al surprises her by laughing and saying, “I’ll give you that one,” and Alicia manages to smile. “You ready to put clothes on yet? Or are you going to our next meal in a bra and underwear?”

“I’ll do what I want, thank you very much,” Alicia retorts.

“You’re gonna let Wes see you like that?”

“I – good point. I will put something on.”

“Not that he’d be the only one staring.”

“Don’t be gross,” Alicia whines. “I already said I’d put clothes on.”

“I’m just saying. I know John loves June, but –”

“That is more than enough,” Alicia interrupts loudly. “Look. I’ve got shorts on. I’m finding a shirt. You’ve made your point.”

Al snickers and closes up her notebook. She locks it in her safe with her camera and tapes. “C’mon. Let’s go eat. Socialize a little. We can talk about what happened when we get back.”

“Even if I threaten to cry?”

“Yep. There’s a box of tissues in here somewhere.”

*

“Your plate, my lady.”

“You need to work on your British accent,” Al says. Wes rolls his eyes and hands the plate of fish to Alicia. 

“Thanks,” Alicia says. Before Wes can reply, Al grabs an apple off the pile and takes a loud bite out of it. She accepts a plate from John and drops into the nearest seat. “I think your accent was decent,” Alicia says. 

Wes grins. “Yeah?”

“Okay, no. Not at all.”

They both laugh, and Alicia hates how flustered Wes can make her feel. She hates that her ability to feel something for someone didn’t die with Jake. 

“Even though you think my attempt at that accent was bad, I still saved you the best fish. As promised.”

“Stop flirting. Some of us are trying to eat here,” Al says. She easily dodges the strawberry Alicia throws at her and continues eating her apple. Wes shrugs when Alicia turns her attention back to him, and she wishes she could be as carefree as him when it came to this stuff. She wishes she could just let it go, brush it off, refuse to let it get under her skin. At least no one else seems to have heard Al’s comment. 

“She’s just jealous anyway,” Wes says. 

Al’s eyebrows raise at the same time that her back straightens. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

Al finishes the last bite of the apple and throws the core over her shoulder as she stands. Alicia’s eyes quickly look Al over for any weapons, and she easily locates her typical handgun and trench spike, both on her belt. Wes similarly packs a gun and a knife, but even as they size each other up, neither reaches for a weapon. Al and Wes are a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them.

“Okay, you guys don’t like each other,” Alicia says, shoving her way between them. “We get it. No need to show off.”

“Everything alright over there?” John calls. 

“Fine. It’s – we’re very good,” Alicia stutters. 

“Okay,” John says warily. “You call me if you need something.”

“Sit down,” Alicia hisses. “Both of you. You’re making a scene.”

“I just call it like I see it,” Wes says. He hooks his thumbs through his belt loops and shrugs. “And you’re acting jealous.”

Maybe Alicia shouldn’t stand between the two of them. Maybe she should move out of the way and let them take a few swings. She’s glad paper currency is useless now, because she doesn’t know who she’d bet on to win, especially if a weapon gets pulled. Alicia knows she won’t be able to hold Wes back, and she’s not entirely confident in her ability to hold Al off, either. Maybe she should call for John.

“And you’re acting like a dick,” Al replies. “You just _have_ to push my buttons, don’t you?”

“So it’s working? Should I call you jealous again?” Wes taunts.

Al’s hands close into fists as Alicia’s hands land at her shoulders, pushing Al back a few steps. That’s all she manages before Al digs in and stops budging. “Don’t,” Alicia breathes. “Please. Don’t do this.”

“He wants to go,” Al says. “We can go.”

“Morgan hasn’t had to handle conflict within the group yet,” Alicia says, speaking quickly and keeping her voice low. “Nothing serious. If you fight, especially over something stupid, Morgan will have to do something, and it probably won’t be good. Please. Don’t do this.”

After a long moment, Al uncurls her fists. “He does it on purpose.”

“I know. But just – keep your cool. Please.”

Al nods and knocks Alicia’s hands off her shoulders. People have started to stare. Mostly it’s John and June stealing worried glances, but Charlie’s gawking at them, seated alongside Annie, Dylan, and Max. Everyone else is too distracted by the fish, “Which is cooked _just perfectly_ ,” Sarah announces. “Cheers.” She taps her bottle of beer against Wendell’s so hard, it stands a chance of shattering. She laughs when it doesn’t and downs most of it in one gulp. Thank God for Sarah, who distracts almost everyone else in the convoy and is likely the only reason they didn’t notice the oncoming fight that Alicia has just single-handedly thwarted.

“Stop it,” Alicia says, turning to Wes. “Stop antagonizing her.” Jesus, she sounds like her mother.

_“Nicholas Clark, knock it off! Stop antagonizing your sister!”_

_“But Mom, she took my video game controller!”_

_“Only because_ he _said he was going to flush my Barbie down the toilet!”_

Alicia shakes the memory off and refocuses. “It’s not funny,” Alicia says, motioning between Al and Wes. “Seriously. This fighting is getting on my fucking nerves.”

“Okay,” Wes agrees. “It’ll stop.”

“Yeah,” Al says.

“Thank you.”

But Al’s jaw clenches, and she shakes her head. She finishes what’s left on her plate while standing then takes off for the van. Alicia forces herself to eat, mostly because she can’t remember what the last thing she ate was, and her stomach commands her to clear her plate.

“I’m sorry,” Wes says. “I didn’t think –”

“Yeah, you didn’t think,” Alicia agrees before he can finish his sentence. “She’s my friend. You don’t have to like her, but can you just not mess with her?”

“I’ll stop. I swear.”

“It’s been a hard day, okay?” Alicia says. “Hard enough without this mess, too.”

“I’m sorry. I thought seeing your mom went well.”

“She’s trapped with the Pioneers,” Alicia snaps. “And I can’t figure out a way to save her.”

“We’ll figure out a way,” Wes assures her.

“We have one chance or else they’ll kill us,” Alicia replies.

“They might kill us anyway.”

“Exactly.”

*

Alicia doesn’t linger after she’s done eating. She thanks Wes again and tells Strand and Luci she’s turning in for the night.

“Are you okay?” Luci asks.

“I’m fine,” Alicia says.

“You don’t seem fine,” Strand says.

“Yeah, well, my mom’s alive but she’s stuck with the Pioneers, so I’m as good as I can be under the circumstances,” Alicia hisses.

“And you broke up a fight between Al and Wes,” Strand comments. He shoves a forkful of fish into his mouth and chews pointedly. “What’s their deal anyway?”

“It’s a long story,” Alicia says.

“You’ll have to tell it sometime,” Strand replies. “I’m intrigued.”

Luci rolls her eyes. “Mind your own business, Strand. You should get some rest, Alicia. It was a long day.”

All the days are long, but Alicia just smiles and nods. As she starts to walk off, she hears Strand tell Luci, “I’ll mind my own business when it doesn’t involve Alicia. I made Madison a promise.” She doesn’t hear whatever Luci says back.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” Alicia blurts the moment the van’s doors close behind her.

“Maybe,” Al concedes. “It’s been a while since I’ve killed someone. I’m not sure I can still do it, actually.”

“Don’t even start.”

Al cracks a weary smile. “Not in the mood for jokes?”

“Seriously?”

“Right. Anyway, I know I said we were going to talk about what happened earlier, but I forgot I’m on watch tonight. Speaking of being on watch, you should probably talk to Morgan about getting into the rotation now that you’re capable of killing walkers again.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault he hasn’t asked,” Alicia says. She looks at Al’s arms, left bare by her tank top, and mutters, “You should probably put something with sleeves on if you’re going on watch.”

“Look at you, acting like you care about me. It’s cute.”

“I said I’m not in the mood for jokes.”

“I didn’t actually fight him. And I probably wouldn’t have.”

“You were prepared to fight. Close enough.”

“If you’re gonna be grumpy, you should take my shift,” Al says. “I need to finish up my notes.”

“Do it while you’re on watch. Take a flashlight.”

“Or you could just take my shift.”

As if Alicia will be able to sleep anyway. “Fine,” Alicia agrees, snatching the flashlight Al’s holding out of her hand. “Who replaces you?”

“I’m pretty sure Sarah gave her shift to Strand after she had her third beer. So Strand should get you at three.”

“Where do you sit?” Alicia asks.

“Sorry?”

“When you’re on watch,” Alicia clarifies. “I always sat on my truck, but I’m pretty sure a bunch of kids live in it now. I don’t think they’d take too kindly to me sitting on their roof while they’re trying to sleep.”

“I sit on the hood of the van,” Al says. “You’ll have to climb up there, though.”

Alicia nods. “I’m gonna tell Strand I’m taking over for you.”

“Have fun with that.”

*

No one really cares that Alicia takes the first shift. She doesn’t say anything to Morgan about putting her in the rotation, but the look that crosses his face when he hears she took Al’s shift implies that maybe he’ll add her without being told to.

“I’ll see you at three,” Strand promises.

Alicia sits on the hood of the van, practicing with her butterfly knife. She really doesn’t need to practice. She’s got it all down again, but it gives her something to do apart from shining the flashlight around occasionally to check for any breaches in their perimeter. It’s always deathly quiet at night. She would hear a person or a walker with no problems. The sound of the van’s door opening scares the living daylights out of Alicia, and she immediately whips around and aims the flashlight in the direction of the sound.

“Trying to blind me?” Al hisses, shielding her eyes with her hand.

“Sorry,” Alicia breathes out. “You scared me.”

“Didn’t mean to.”

“What’re you doing out here?” Alicia asks. “I took your shift so you could work on your notes and sleep.”

Al shrugs and hoists herself up onto the hood of the van, taking a seat next to Alicia. “I couldn’t fall asleep. I thought you of all people would understand that.”

“So you’re out here with me.”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“So we can talk about what happened.”

Alicia grunts. “I don’t really want to.”

“Your mom is a Pioneer. I think we should talk about it.”

“Not by choice,” Alicia says “If she thought she could safely leave, she would.”

“She made it sound like she wants to stay, even if she isn’t allowed to leave.”

Alicia shakes her head. “She would leave if she could.”

Al lets it drop. Instead, she says, “Madison seemed really freaked out by the plane crash.”

“I don’t think she ever considered that her children might die in aircraft accidents once the major airlines stopped operating,” Alicia says. She closes up the butterfly knife, tucks it into her pocket, and stares down at her palms.

“It’s a good thing we didn’t tell her about the nuclear power plant melting down, then, right?” Al jokes.

“She would’ve had a heart attack. Probably would’ve strangled Strand right then and there for letting me be anywhere near that.”

“At least it all worked out.”

Alicia’s eyebrows raise. “Did it?”

“We aren’t dead.”

Alicia snorts. “You know what we should talk about? Your issues surrounding the crash.”

“I don’t have…issues.”

“You totally do,” Alicia argues. “You said it yourself. You can’t let go of the crash.”

“The engine wasn’t supposed to fail. Everything that happened after that was my fault. Luci’s shoulder. Your hands. June could’ve been killed by a walker that we landed on. It was right beneath her. Hell, any of us could’ve been killed if I’d taken the plane down incorrectly.”

“We weren’t killed.”

“I’ve seen a lot of shit, Alicia. I should be able to let this go. Even if there are reminders everywhere I look.” Al motions toward Alicia’s hands, and Alicia flinches and curls them into fists, concealing the scars.

“We don’t get to choose what traumatizes us and what doesn’t,” Alicia finally says. “I had a lot of close calls with death, but the radiated walker fucked me up more than –” She cuts herself off, and Al looks over at her.

“More than what?”

“Some of the other closer calls,” Alicia mutters. “I’ve killed a lot of people, Al.”

“Yeah, but your mom was right,” Al says. “None of our hands are clean. I’ve killed my fair share, too.”

“It’s a good thing I don’t get many chances to look in a mirror anymore,” Alicia says. “I don’t think I’d recognize myself.”

Before Al can reply, a twig snaps, and Alicia swings the flashlight over in the direction of the sound. Her other hand goes to her hip, touching the gun barrel, but the beam of light lands on Charlie.

“What’re you doing up?” Al questions.

“Sarah’s snoring,” Charlie answers. “What’re _you_ doing up? Alicia took your shift.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Al dismisses. She waves Charlie over and pats the space beside her. “C’mon. It’s safer up here.”

“There’s nothing out here,” Charlie replies. “We’d hear it.” Even so, she climbs up onto the hood of the van, accepting the hand Al offers her for help. Charlie sits cross-legged and stares out at the semi-truck she calls home. “I miss beds,” she says suddenly. Al and Alicia laugh, and Charlie grins and says, “What? It’s true. You try sleeping in a sleeping bag in the back of a semi while Sarah snores up a storm up front. Wendell wakes her up, like, five times a night to try to get her to stop.”

“You could ask to move somewhere else,” Alicia points out. “John and June would probably take you.”

Charlie shakes her head. “I like Sarah and Wendell. And I like all the extra space. It’s just the _snoring_.”

“You can sleep in the van for tonight,” Al says.

“It’s okay. I’m sure Wendell will get her to stop soon.” There’s a pause before Charlie says, “So you saw Madison.”

“Yeah,” Alicia says quietly.

“How was that?”

Alicia exhales heavily. She doesn’t know what to say to Charlie. Charlie, who spied on them for the Vultures and sort of helped cause the fall of the stadium. Charlie, who shot and killed Nick in retaliation for Ennis’s death. Charlie, who Alicia tried to kill numerous times but ultimately failed to kill when she finally had the perfect chance. What is she supposed to tell her about Madison, who wanted so badly to incorporate Charlie into their community?

“It was okay,” Alicia says softly.

“She’s with the Pioneers,” Charlie says.

“Yes.”

“Will she come back?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” Al pipes up. She grasps onto Charlie’s shoulder. “That’s for us to handle.”

“I just – I owe her an apology,” Charlie mumbles. “More than an apology, really.”

“She doesn’t know,” Alicia tells Charlie. “She doesn’t know it was you. I just told her the Vultures killed Nick. She doesn’t have to know.”

“I’m not worried about her knowing,” Charlie says. “I killed him. If she wants to kill me for it, then she should.”

“We don’t have to worry about that,” Al says quickly. She looks to Alicia for help, but Alicia stares out at the convoy, lips pressed together. She isn’t going to speak for what her mom may or may not do. Just because Madison didn’t lose her cool in front of them at the news of Nick’s death doesn’t mean she didn’t return to the Pioneers and lose it. Alicia knows you hold it together when you have to. And Madison probably felt like she had to, for Alicia’s sake.

“Yeah,” Alicia finally murmurs. “Don’t worry.”

*

Charlie doesn’t sit with them for too long. Once her yawning gets out of hand, she decides to give sleeping in the semi another shot and hopes aloud that Sarah’s gotten the snoring under control.

“Here,” Alicia says. “I’ll walk you back.”

Alicia slides down and offers Charlie her hand. Charlie has no qualms about accepting assistance and doesn’t say anything about Alicia walking her back to the semi. Alicia leads the way with the flashlight. As they reach the semi, Alicia can hear Sarah’s snoring coming through the front window, cracked to let fresh air in.

“You can sleep in the van,” Alicia reminds her.

“I’ll wake her up when I go in,” Charlie replies. “If I’m lucky, she’ll have a beer and give me a chance to fall asleep before she does.”

“You sure?”

Charlie nods. “Thanks, Alicia.”

Alicia hesitates. “Come find me in the morning. We’ll play a game.”

“Okay.”

Alicia shines the flashlight into the back of the semi to give Charlie a chance to get her stuff together. Alicia waits for Charlie to wake Sarah up to tell her to stop snoring before closing the doors and sealing them. Alicia returns to the van, mildly surprised to see Al still sitting atop it. It’s got to be getting closer to three, and Strand will probably be coming to relieve her soon.

“You’re still up?” Alicia questions.

“Yeah. It’s a nice night. Not hot or cold.”

“That’s not why you’re up.”

Al smiles. “No. It’s not.” As Alicia takes her spot next to Al again, Al says, “Hey, listen, I’m sorry about what happened with Wes. I lost my cool –”

“It’s okay,” Alicia interrupts. “He messed with you on purpose. We had a…hard day.”

Al snorts. “And now Ginny thinks we’re together too? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Alicia mutters. “I can’t believe she told my mom.”

“I can’t believe your mom asked me what my intentions with her daughter were.”

They both laugh. “Ginny thought we were _handsy_ ,” Alicia scoffs. “We didn’t even do anything.”

“I mean, you did hold my hand.”

Alicia rolls her eyes. “That doesn’t qualify as _being handsy_.”

Al shrugs. “Ginny saw what she wanted to see, I guess.”

“And tattled to my mom.”

Silence falls between them, and Alicia has no intention of breaking it. It’s nice to just be able to sit and enjoy the night with a friend. Strand shows up sooner than Alicia expects, and he takes one look at the two of them and asks, “Why’d you even bother to give up your shift if you were gonna sit out here anyway?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Al answers. “Happens sometimes.”

“Ah,” Strand says. “I see.” He jabs his thumb over his shoulder. “Come on. Get down. Go get some rest. I’ve got this.”

They head back into the van as Strand takes over, and though they both lie down on their respective seats, neither falls asleep. Alicia stares up at the ceiling, hands folded over her stomach.

“You think Madison will kill her?” Al asks. “If she finds out. You think she’ll kill Charlie?”

“I don’t know.”

“You think we shouldn’t tell her it was Charlie?”

“I didn’t tell her when I had the chance,” Alicia says. “I don’t see why I’d bring it up again.”

“But if she asks. Would you tell her?”

Alicia sighs. “I don’t know, Al.”

“You care about Charlie.”

“I – yeah. I guess I do.” There’s a long pause before Alicia says, “I’ll do what I can to protect her.”

*

Charlie keeps her word and comes to find Alicia in the morning. Alicia asks what she wants to do, and Charlie shrugs and says, “John has a baseball and some catcher’s mitts in his truck.” Charlie retrieves them, and that’s how they end up throwing a baseball back and forth off in the field next to the convoy.

“Did you play sports?” Alicia asks. She snatches the ball out of the air and flings it back toward Charlie.

“Just soccer,” Charlie says. “My dad and I used to play catch in our backyard.”

“Oh.”

“What about you?”

Alicia laughs. “No. Sports weren’t my thing.”

“What was your thing?”

Alicia smirks. “I was more into reading and writing.”

“Writing what?”

Charlie sends the ball high, and Alicia has to jump to catch it. “Fiction. Poetry. I’d write, like, in journals and stuff. Nothing major.”

“You were supposed to go to college,” Charlie guesses.

“Yeah.”

“I was supposed to start middle school.”

Alicia accidentally sends the ball sailing well over Charlie’s head, and Charlie has to go chase it down. “Sorry,” Alicia says.

“It’s okay,” Charlie replies. She throws the ball back. “What college were you going to?”

Alicia resists the urge to flinch and swallows hard. “Berkeley,” she says.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s cool,” Charlie says. “I was going to try out for soccer in sixth grade. I was thinking about playing basketball if I got tall enough.”

“I’m sure you would’ve made the team.”

Charlie laughs. “I don’t know about that. Do you know what you were going to study?”

“I had a few things in mind,” Alicia says. “Maybe English. I was leaning toward pre-med.”

“You wanted to be a doctor?”

“I wanted to help people.”

“Well, you might not be a doctor, but you can still help people now,” Charlie points out.

“It doesn’t seem like there are a lot of people out there dying for our help,” Alicia says.

“More people will come,” Charlie says.

“How are you so sure?”

Charlie shrugs. “I just have faith.”

They toss the ball back and forth in silence for a while. Alicia lets her mind wander. She notices the flowers growing not far from where they’re standing. They remind her of Nick. She doesn’t really want to think about Nick. That always leads her to thinking about how Charlie shot him, how he died with her at his side. And thinking about Nick leads to the stadium, leads to Madison, leads to the stadium falling, and Madison’s last words. Madison dying. Except it didn’t happen the way Alicia had come to accept.

“I meant what I said. It’s okay if Madison kills me,” Charlie says abruptly.

“What?”

“I killed Nick, even though he was only ever nice to me. You may not have been able to kill me, even though you wanted to, but Madison can probably do it. And you shouldn’t stop her. I deserve it.”

“No,” Alicia says. She catches the ball and holds onto it. “You aren’t going to die.”

“I can’t move on,” Charlie admits. “I can’t – I never should’ve hurt him. I never should’ve hurt everyone who loved him. I never should’ve helped the Vultures.”

“You’re a kid,” Alicia says. “You made mistakes, and you can still make up for them. Isn’t that what we’re doing out here? Making up for our past?”

“I don’t think it works like that, Alicia,” Charlie says quietly. “And I’m not scared of dying anymore. My parents died early on. I’ve had no one.”

“You have people,” Alicia insists. She pulls her hand out of the mitt and drops it to the ground with the ball. She closes the distance between them. Alicia grabs onto Charlie’s shoulders. “You have people here, okay? We care about you.”

“I know, but still.”

“No,” Alicia says firmly. “We need you here.”

“Madison will come back. She won’t want me here when she finds out what I did.”

Alicia isn’t entirely sure why she drags Charlie into a hug, but she does it anyway. “I’ll worry about that,” Alicia says. After a few moments, she feels Charlie pat her on the back.

“Okay,” Charlie agrees. “Can we keep throwing the ball?”

“Sure. We can throw the ball until lunch if you want.”

*

That’s exactly what they do. Alicia makes sure Charlie gets lunch then finds her way to Al. “Hey,” Alicia says. “I think we need to keep an eye on Charlie.”

“Why?” Al asks. She offers Alicia some of her chips, but Alicia waves her off.

“She just…said some concerning things.”

“Like what?”

“She said she isn’t afraid of dying anymore. Said I should let my mom kill her – that she deserves it. I don’t know. It didn’t come across right.”

Al nods. “There are always people watching her, Alicia. I think the only time she ever gets to herself is when she’s asleep.”

“Good.”

“She’ll be okay,” Al assures Alicia. Al nods in Charlie’s direction. She’s seated with Annie, and they’re both laughing. “She has friends. Friends her own age, at that.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I know I am,” Al says. She forces Alicia to take her bag of chips. “Eat some of those. You’re looking thin.”

“I – I am not.”

Al nods as she wipes her hands on a handkerchief. “Sure you are. You need to eat, Alicia. What would your mother say?”

Alicia rolls her eyes but eats some of the chips just to get Al off her back. “So what’s the plan for today?” Alicia asks.

“Morgan’s been putting together more boxes,” Al says. “I think his plan is to gradually move us toward Humbug’s Gulch and leave boxes on the way.”

“What about Dwight?”

Al shakes her head. “I haven’t heard anything about what we’re going to do about Dwight yet.”

“The Pioneers are still at the fields,” Alicia says. “We could always try to retake them?”

“Sounds like a great way to get everyone slaughtered,” Al snorts.

Before Alicia can reply, the walkie at Al’s belt crackles. “Can someone hear me?” a woman’s voice asks. “I – I saw your video. Morgan or – or Alicia? Are you out there?”

Alicia doesn’t wait, just yanks the walkie free. “Hey, it’s Alicia. I’m here. What’s going on?”

“We ran out of gas just a few miles from the truck stop with your video in it. We’re being surrounded by the dead. We need help.”

“Okay, we’re coming for you,” Alicia promises. “I just need you to tell me exactly where you are.” Al acts quickly, retrieving a pen and piece of paper from the van to jot down everything this woman knows. “We’ll be there as soon as we can,” Alicia promises. “Just hang on.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” the woman cries.

“I’m going,” Alicia tells Al. “You driving?”

“I’ll drive,” Al agrees. “You tell Morgan we’re taking off.”

“Morgan!” Alicia shouts. She gets his attention and waves him over. “We’ve got someone,” she tells him. “Al and I are going to help them.”

“I think you should take a third person with you. Just in case,” Morgan warns. “We _are_ in Pioneer territory, after all. Isn’t that right?”

“I’ll go.”

Alicia’s eyes close. “I don’t think –”

“That’s a great idea,” Morgan says. “Show him how we operate, Alicia.”

Wes grins. “Well? What’re we waiting for?”

*

Alicia makes sure to sit up front. At least if Wes is stuck in the back, Al can’t kill him and drive at the same time.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Wes asks.

“Yes,” Al says.

“Don’t need help with navigation?”

“I know my way around here,” Al snaps. She glances in the rearview mirror, eyes narrowing. “Shouldn’t take us more than twenty minutes to reach them.”

“So we just…what?” Wes asks. “Kill the walkers, give them some supplies, and leave?”

“If they’re not interested in joining us, sure,” Alicia answers.

“Seems straightforward enough.”

“It normally is,” Alicia says. “Now can we please just sit in silence?”

“What? Not in the mood to talk?” Wes questions.

“No.”

He accepts that answer and sits back. It turns out Al really does know where she’s going without consulting a map or asking for help. Alicia fidgets with the butterfly knife. This kind of stuff always makes her nervous. She still isn’t quite the walker killing machine that she used to be. The idea of killing them still sets her on edge.

“What kind of car did they say they were in?” Al asks.

“What?” Alicia says, tearing her eyes away from the side window. She looks out the windshield at the vehicle parked on the road ahead of them. “Uh – she said it was a Ford Explorer.”

“Red?”

“Yeah.”

“So that’s it,” Al says. She puts the van in park.

“But – where are all the walkers?” Alicia asks.

“Guys,” Wes says. He leans up between the two front seats and points out Al’s window. “Over there.”

“Alicia, wait!” Al calls. She makes a swipe for Alicia’s arm but misses, and Alicia’s out of the van and jogging over to the side of the road, where at least twenty walkers are laid out in a straight line. Alicia’s heart hammers in her chest, and she draws the Glock and flicks the safety off. There’s no one around as far as she can tell, but every nerve in her body is on alert. Al and Wes reach her side right after she peers into the Ford Explorer.

Empty.

“What is this?” Wes demands, motioning toward the walkers. “Who does this?”

Alicia and Al exchange a worried look. Wes waits, his eyebrows raised, for someone to answer him. “Who do you think?” Al finally says.

“They beat us here,” Alicia says in disbelief. “But how? We left almost right away.”

“They must be close,” Al mutters. She draws the handgun at her hip, too, and Wes does the same.

“I think they’re gone, guys,” Wes says uneasily. “There’s nowhere for them to hide out here.”

“The truck stop,” Alicia says. “It’s close by here. Maybe –”

“They’re probably dead, Alicia,” Al cuts in. “Or they’ve joined the Pioneers. I don’t think we can help them now.”

“We need to check,” Alicia insists. “We can at least see if our video is still up.”

“It’ll be up,” Al says. “This is exactly what the Pioneers want to happen.”

Alicia shakes her head. “They can’t – give me the walkie.”

“That’s not a good idea,” Al warns. She doesn’t stop Alicia from taking the walkie from her, though. Alicia flips it to channel five.

“Mom? It’s Alicia,” she says. “I need to talk to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just thought I should share that I actually minored in philosophy since philosophy came up in this chapter lol. I really enjoy philosophy and wish I would've majored in it instead.
> 
> So at this point, I'm writing chapter 14. I have a general plan for this story (meaning I know roughly which direction it's going), and we've got quite a ways to go. Thanks for sticking with me. All the kudos and kind words mean so much to me, and no matter how long it takes, I will make sure I deliver an ending to you (when we reach that point). I have more ideas, and I know s6 will provide me with way more inspiration, so there should be more to come from me in the future. 
> 
> In the meantime, if updates start becoming irregular, you can always find me at blinkaftermidnight on tumblr. Feel free to shoot me a message!


	12. this isn't my life

“This isn’t a good idea,” Al says.

“My mom can help us,” Alicia dismisses.

“And what if they send someone to investigate this?” Al hisses.

“Your lady’s got a point,” Wes says. Al doesn’t even seem to notice being referred to as Alicia’s lady, and Alicia doesn’t get a chance to object to it.

“Even he agrees with me,” Al says.

“I need to talk to her,” Alicia insists.

“This isn’t a safe place!” Al bursts. “We are completely exposed out here.”

“Alicia? Are you there?” Madison asks over the walkie.

“I’m here,” Alicia answers in spite of the looks she’s getting from both Al and Wes.

“Are you okay?”

“I – yeah, I’m fine.”

“They’re obviously monitoring channel four,” Wes mutters, mostly to Al. “They’re listening to everything we say.”

“Obviously,” Al sneers. “We need to get out of here and move our campsite. Now.”

“Alicia, what’s going on?” Madison asks.

“We’re at a truck stop,” Alicia says. “We were out here trying to help someone, but someone else got here first.”

“What’re you talking about, Alicia?” Madison asks.

“There were survivors out here. They asked for our help over the radio. When we got here, all the dead were killed and arranged in a straight line, and the survivors are nowhere to be found.”

There’s a long pause before Madison says, “That’s a little bit odd, I’ll give you that. What do you need me to do, honey?”

“You know nothing about the people in the red Ford Explorer?” Alicia asks.

“Not a single thing.” Before Alicia can reply, Madison asks, “Do you want me to meet you somewhere?”

Alicia hesitates. “Should I say yes? Should I bring her here?”

“You might as well now,” Al grumbles. “Anyone who’s listening will know exactly where to find us.”

Alicia’s eyes widen. “Maybe we should –”

Madison cuts her off over the walkie. “Just pick a place, Alicia. I’ll be there.”

“Just tell her,” Wes chimes in. “Just give her our location.”

“Anyone could show up here,” Al snarls. “We’ll be outmatched.”

Alicia’s eyes flick to the guns mounted on the van and thinks that, even if they’re outnumbered, they might not actually be outmatched. She relays their exact location to Madison, then Al takes the walkie back. They park the van behind the truck stop and wait. No one talks. It’s so quiet, they can hear the horse’s hooves on the pavement. Without warning, Alicia leaves the van, and once again, Al fails to grab onto her to stop her. The sound of the hooves stop. Al and Wes lock eyes, and they both exit the van simultaneously. Al holds her rifle ready as she rounds the corner to the front of the truck stop. She lowers it as her eyes land on Madison atop the horse. Just Madison. There are no other Pioneers in sight.

“Mom!” Alicia exclaims.

Madison dismounts, frowning, looking from Al to Wes. “Alicia,” she says. “I don’t have long. What’s going on?”

“We were hoping you could tell us that,” Al pipes up. She motions with her rifle toward the walkers lined up along the road.

“I’m afraid I know nothing about that,” Madison says.

“Come on,” Wes snorts. “Nothing? Who else could’ve beaten us here?”

“There are a lot of people out here, listening on the radios,” Madison answers. She puts her hands on her hips, and Alicia’s eyes flick to the revolver holstered there. Since when does Madison carry a revolver?

“Where’d they go?” Al asks. “The people who called us. Where are they?”

“I’m telling you, I have no idea,” Madison says.

“You were close by,” Wes points out. “You got here pretty fast.”

Madison smiles. “Paradise Ridge isn’t too far from here. I thought you’d know that.”

The walkie clipped to Madison’s belt interrupts their conversation. “Maddie? Everything alright out there?”

_Maddie?_

Madison unclips the walkie and answers, “Perfectly fine. It’s just me and my daughter.”

“That’s good. Real good,” Ginny replies. “Don’t stay out too long now. You know I was hoping to get that fence repaired before sundown.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Madison hooks the walkie back to her belt and sets her eyes on Alicia. “I don’t think I can help you,” Madison says. “I’m sorry.”

Alicia’s words stick in her throat. She wants to ask Madison to run away with them, but Madison’s already got a hand back on her horse. “You have to go,” Alicia says instead. “Already?”

Madison nods. “I have to go. I’m sorry.” She mounts her horse but hesitates. “I think it’d be smart of you to tell your leader – Morgan – that this area isn’t safe for you. You’d be better off heading farther west if you’re thinking about staying in Texas. Way west. Close to the New Mexico border.”

“He won’t leave,” Al says.

“Then you should rethink what you’re doing following him,” Madison says. “But that’s just my advice.”

“Mom, I –”

“I’ll call you,” Madison promises. “I’ll use channel four. Keep your radio on.”

“Okay,” Alicia agrees. Alicia stands in the middle of the road next to the Ford Explorer until Madison disappears off into the distance. Al busies herself with studying the walkers, shaking her head to herself.

“The Pioneers are either really good at compartmentalizing or Madison was lying,” Al calls.

“What do you mean?” Wes asks.

“Look.” Al waits for Wes and Alicia to join her on the side of the road and points out the prints left in the dirt by horseshoes. “Horses,” Al says. “It had to be the Pioneers.”

“But the survivors aren’t here,” Alicia says, chewing on her lower lip. “Wouldn’t they leave their bodies?”

“Unless they’re not dead,” Wes says.

Al presses her lips together. “The Pioneers took them.”

*

Morgan’s waiting for them when they return. “What was that all about?” he asks. “We heard you call for Madison –”

“The Pioneers beat us to them,” Al says, slamming the van’s door shut behind her. “The walkers were dead, lined up along the side of the road. Madison denied knowing about it. The survivors that called for our help were nowhere to be found.”

“They’re listening to us,” Wes pipes up. “On the radio. They’re monitoring channel four and sending their people out before we can get there.”

Morgan exhales. “Anything else?”

“Yeah,” Alicia says. “My mom told us this area isn’t safe for us. She told us we should head way out west if we want to stay and help people.”

“They have no right –”

“They have more resources than us,” Al cuts in. “They have more people. More weapons. More settlements. We can’t win this fight, Morgan. They want us gone, and they’re giving us the chance to leave. We should take it.”

Morgan presses his lips together, rubbing at his chin. “Okay,” he says.

Al’s eyebrows raise, and Alicia’s jaw nearly hits the ground. “Okay?” Al says dumbly.

“Yep,” Morgan agrees. “We’re going to pack up. We’re heading straight for the Gulch right now.”

“I don’t think that’s what they meant,” Wes says when he realizes both Al and Alicia are too dumbfounded to react. “The Gulch isn’t far enough, from what I’ve heard. Madison told us to head closer to New Mexico –”

“You let me handle this,” Morgan says.

“We’ll run out of fuel,” Al says once she’s found her voice again. “We might just make it to Humbug’s Gulch, but then we’ll be trapped.”

“And what about Dwight?” Alicia questions. “We can’t just leave him out here with the Pioneers.”

“We will get him back,” Morgan insists. “Once we’re settled at the Gulch, we will handle everything. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to fill everyone else in on the plan.”

“This is such a bad idea,” Wes groans. “I never should’ve left the police station.”

“It’s too late for that,” Al snaps. “You’re stuck with us. So go get packed. Looks like we’re going to Humbug’s Gulch.”

*

Alicia sits in the back of the van while everyone scrambles to get their stuff together. She refuses to be more than a few feet from a walkie, constantly checking its battery level. Al busies herself with reorganizing her things in the van, complaining about Alicia’s lack of a system with her own stuff. Al’s right, of course. Alicia’s “system” amounts to shoving everything she owns into bags. It’s already dark before anyone is ready to leave.

“What about Isabelle?” Alicia asks out of nowhere.

“What?” Al says, freezing. “What about her?”

“Can she help us?”

“I don’t even know where she is,” Al says through her teeth. “I don’t have any way to contact her, and even if I _did_ –”

“You wouldn’t. It’s too dangerous. Right,” Alicia says absently. “Sorry. I was just trying to think of a way out of this.”

“There’s no way out,” Al retorts. “We’re going to Humbug’s Gulch, and we’re going to get slaughtered by the Pioneers when they get tired of our games.”

“I don’t think Ginny will get tired,” Alicia says. “I think she’ll get what she wants.”

“And what does she want?” Al asks.

Alicia looks up and meets Al’s gaze. “Us,” Alicia says simply. “You and me for sure. She said she was interested in speaking to Morgan. Who knows what she knows about all of us? We basically shot ourselves in the foot by putting that video out there in the first place. We were too honest. The Pioneers know our weaknesses. They know exactly how many people we have, they know how we operate, while we know next to nothing about them. They know we’re vulnerable.”

Al sighs heavily. “Look, we’re gonna be okay –”

“No, we aren’t,” Alicia says. “We’re gonna be Pioneers.”

“No. We won’t. I won’t let it happen.”

Alicia smiles sadly. “I don’t think that’s up to you, Al.”

Al stops with her hands on her hips, inhales deeply. “We don’t have to go,” she finally says. “We could take off. Me and you –”

“And what about Luci and Strand?” Alicia questions. “Wes? June? John? My mom? Charlie and – we can’t just leave them all behind because we don’t agree with Morgan’s plan.”

Al shakes her head and runs her hand through her hair. “This isn’t how I thought my life was gonna go,” she mutters.

“Yeah? Well, I didn’t expect my life to go this way, either, but here we are,” Alicia says, jumping up to her feet. “At least you weren’t basically still a kid when all this shit started. At least you had some kind of a real life before this. _This_? Killing walkers and – and killing people? This is my life. You at least have a job you can keep doing!”

The look on Al’s face isn’t quite pity, but it’s something close. “Alicia –”

“Don’t!”

“I’m sorry,” Al says softly.

“Maybe – maybe we’ll get to the Gulch and it’ll be okay,” Alicia says. “Maybe we’ll be able to move right in and – and get set up. Maybe it’ll just be a temporary stop along the way, at least until we get Dwight and my mom back. And then maybe we’ll find somewhere farther away, somewhere safer.”

“Maybe,” Al says weakly.

“But I guess there’s no point in pretending this is going to go great, right?”

“We don’t know what we’re going to find,” Al says. “We just have to…have faith.”

“I lost faith a long time ago, Al.”

Alicia startles as the walkie crackles, but her shoulders slump when Morgan’s voice comes across it. “Alright everybody, let’s get ready to move out. I’ll lead the way.”

Al checks the time. It’s almost pushing midnight. If there was a real emergency – if they were attacked – at least they know it’d take them a solid few hours to be actually ready to flee with their things. “He’s going to make us drive through the night,” Al says. “If we’re lucky, we’ll be there right before the sun rises.”

“My mom said she’d call.”

Al nods. “Then wait up for her.”

Al straps herself in behind the wheel, and Alicia does the same in the passenger’s seat. “Are you afraid?” Alicia asks as the engine roars to life.

Al grasps onto the steering wheel and looks over at Alicia curiously. “Aren’t you?”

*

It isn’t long before the first vehicle runs out of gas. It’s the worst truck they could possibly lose, too. Daniel’s voice on the radio scares Alicia out of her state of half-sleep, and it takes her a moment to realize they’ve been on the road for less than an hour.

“I’m out,” Daniel says. “The tanker is out of gas.”

“Alright, we’re gonna have to stop,” Morgan says.

“Stop?” Al says to herself. “It’s the middle of the fucking night. We’re in the middle of nowhere. There are, like, a thousand things that could go wrong.”

“They’ll just refuel, and we’ll keep moving,” Alicia mumbles. She leans her head back against the window, letting her eyes close.

“The tanker’s low,” Al informs. Alicia’s eyes pop back open.

“What?”

“We’re almost out of gas,” Al says. “We lost the fields. We have next to nothing left. We’ll barely make it, maybe.”

“Morgan didn’t – he made it sound like –”

“He didn’t want everyone to panic,” Al explains. “The Gulch is our last shot unless we just happen to find another oil field, I guess. And the odds of that happening are next to zero.”

“He – what – he didn’t tell me,” Alicia says dumbly. “He told you?”

“I overheard him telling John,” Al says. Her jaw clenches, unclenches. Her knuckles are white, she’s holding onto the wheel so tightly. “He didn’t really have a choice.”

“Since when did John become second in command?”

“He isn’t,” Al says. “He’s just Morgan’s friend, probably the best friend he’s got left here, so Morgan tells him shit the rest of us aren’t supposed to know.” Al shakes her head. “Ever since Grace died, he hasn’t been the same.”

Alicia winces. She doesn’t want to talk about Grace. Just one more thing to feel guilty about. She turns her attention out the window, trying to see the oil tanker. It’s too far behind them for her to get a clear view.

“Al.”

“Yeah?”

“Grace died because of me.”

Al’s eyes lock onto Alicia’s face, but she looks more confused than anything. “What? That isn’t what Morgan said.”

“If I’d been closer to her, I could’ve saved her,” Alicia says. “But I was trying to clear us a path, and I didn’t know she was going to collapse. I didn’t know she was sick. I couldn’t get there in time.”

Al doesn’t say anything. Her expression is unreadable. “Did Morgan talk to you about it?”

“He said it wasn’t my fault,” Alicia says. Her voice breaks, and she aggressively clears her throat. “He wasn’t close by, either. He said he should’ve stayed by her. He thought she was okay. But she collapsed, and there was a walker nearby.” Alicia stops and shakes her head. She stares out the window into the darkness, cut through only by their vehicles’ headlights. “I didn’t get there in time.”

Alicia can tell Al doesn’t know what to say. Instead, Al just reaches over, offering her hand, and Alicia takes it. She barely knew Grace, but she seemed nice enough. She was trying to help them. She didn’t deserve what happened to her.

“Okay,” Morgan says over the walkie. Alicia expects Al to release her hand, but she doesn’t. “Daniel’s going to join me in my truck. We have to leave the tanker behind.”

“What?” Sarah jumps in. “Mo-Mo, we can’t do that under any circumstances. We need that fuel.”

“We’re out,” Morgan says shortly. “We’ll drive until we run out completely.”

“How much diesel do you have?” Alicia asks quietly.

“Enough to get us to the Gulch,” Al answers. “But we’ll be just about out by the time we get there. I know John had a full tank when we left. Strand’s tank was close to full. The semi might be alright. I don’t know about your truck. Or Morgan’s. And we only have a few spare cans stored around here.”

“What you’re saying is, we’re fucked,” Alicia says.

Al clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Pretty much.”

“If the Gulch doesn’t work out, we don’t have a backup plan.”

Al inhales. “Alicia. The Gulch _is_ our backup plan. We don’t have a backup for the backup plan.”

“How is this okay?” Alicia asks. “How could Morgan do this?”

“He’s doing what he thinks is right.”

“He’s leading us on a suicide mission,” Alicia blurts. Al winces when Alicia squeezes her hand a little too hard. “Sorry,” Alicia says. “It’s just – we’ll be trapped right near the Pioneers.”

“I know.”

*

The sign comes into view before long. On the sign is a caricature of a cowboy that, at a certain angle, looks a hell of a lot like John. He’s holding his hat up, grinning widely, standing next to the words: HUMBUG’S GULCH IS ONLY TEN MILES AWAY. STOP AT THE BEST THEME PARK IN THE WEST. By the time they see the sign, Alicia’s got her feet up on the dashboard, the seat’s reclined, and she’s using one of her hoodies as a blanket. She’s committed to not moving until they reach the Gulch, even though Al’s put on some country music and occasionally sings along. Alicia supposes this is the downside of not wanting to live alone anymore.

“Maybe Ginny won’t bother to follow us out here,” Alicia says, just to get Al to turn the music down.

“She’s waiting for us to fail,” Al replies. “She’s waiting for us to get desperate.”

“And what? Call her? Beg her for help?”

“Exactly.”

“Maybe they’re more like the Vultures than I thought.”

“No,” Al says softly. “They’re worse. They’re the Vultures but with more people, more resources, and more power. They’re organized.”

“Why can’t you be as optimistic as Morgan?” Alicia jokes. “Don’t you know nothing can go wrong?”

Al busts out laughing. Alicia grins. It isn’t until her eyes land on the Humbug’s Gulch sign that she remembers her mom hasn’t called. Alicia tells herself that doesn’t indicate anything – it doesn’t mean something happened to her. Maybe she forgot. Maybe she’s busy. Maybe she just meant _call_ vaguely, as in she’ll call sometime in the near future.

“We’re gonna stop here,” Morgan decides. “We’re only a few miles away. There’s a couple more hours of darkness, so let’s get some rest. We’ll get moving again when the sun rises.”

“Thank God,” Al breathes. She kills the engine and stands to stretch, groaning as her joints pop. “You gonna sleep there?” Al questions.

“I can move,” Alicia says.

“You look comfortable.”

“I’m getting dirt on your dashboard.”

“Well, you’re gonna clean it, then,” Al says. “Is it just me, or is it cold in here?”

“It’s fucking cold,” Alicia agrees. “Want my hoodie?”

Al snorts. “I have my own, you know.”

“Suit yourself.” Alicia pauses. “I’ve never seen you wear a hoodie.”

“And I’m not going to start now,” Al replies. She flashes Alicia a quick smile and chooses a flannel shirt.

“You look like a lumberjack,” Alicia deadpans. They both giggle, and Alicia mentally blames it on the fact that it’s the middle of the night and they’re running on no sleep after a stressful day.

“Yeah? And you look like you just showed up for an eight a.m. lecture after a night of partying,” Al says.

“What? I do not!”

“Bags under your eyes, messy hair, and you’re wrapped in a hoodie instead of wearing it.”

“Well, I’m sorry I can’t shower on a regular basis, and it’s warmer if you wear it this way.”

“I know your life sucks because of all this,” Al says, waving her arm around, “but you really didn’t miss out on too much by not going to college.”

Alicia finally takes her feet off the dashboard and twists around to stare at Al. “What do you mean?”

Al shrugs. “I mean, you’ve probably been saved from catching an STD or two. You don’t have to wake up before eight a.m. if you don’t want to. No homework. No switching majors three times because you can’t make up your mind. No racking up hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt.”

“Just dealing with the walking dead, every day, all day,” Alicia laughs. “Seems like a fair trade off.”

“There’s the good and the bad,” Al says. As she kicks her boots off and starts to settle in for the night, Alicia detangles herself from her hoodie and joins Al in the back. Alicia sits rather than lying down, though, and Al stares at her inquisitively from across the aisle. “What’s up?” Al finally asks.

“I don’t know, I just – there are so many people I never would’ve known if the world hadn’t changed.”

“Be honest,” Al says. She props her head up on her hand. “If you could flip a switch and return to your normal life – if you could guarantee you’d have a walker-free life until you died – would you flip it even if it meant you wouldn’t know any of us?”

Alicia’s mouth opens, but she falters. “I don’t know,” she admits. “Strand. Luci. Daniel and Ofelia. Jake. You. I know the world is fucking awful, but…I don’t know if I could do it.”

“But if you wouldn’t remember anything about this life.”

“That’d be worse, almost,” Alicia says. “I wouldn’t even know what I missed. And like, what if I met Jake by some random chance? We both lived in California. It could happen. I wouldn’t know he was a guy I fell in love with in an alternate apocalypse world. I don’t know if I could give that up.”

Al hums. “Even if you got to go to Berkeley and have a career and maybe a family and never have to kill anything that should already be dead ever again?”

“I – all I want is my family back,” Alicia says quietly. “If I could just bring them back, even if we have to live in this shitty world and kill walkers and sometimes people, then I wouldn’t flip the switch.” Alicia hesitates. “Would you flip the switch?”

Al grins. “Now we’re really getting philosophical.”

Alicia rolls her eyes. “No we’re not. Would you give up all of us to go back? To live the rest of your life in a society that has never known walkers?”

“You know,” Al says, “a couple months ago, I would’ve said yes.”

“Then what changed?”

Alicia feels like Al might be staring into her soul. Alicia averts her gaze but waits for Al to answer. “I need to move forward,” Al finally says. “We’ll never have a normal life, even if all the walkers on the planet dropped dead for real in an instant. There is no going back.”

“So even if you could go back, you wouldn’t?”

“We aren’t meant to go back,” Al says. “I will love all the people I lost until the day I die, but I have to tell myself I was never meant to have them any longer than I did.”

“I can’t stop living in the past,” Alicia says. “I don’t know what going forward looks like, even now that my mom is alive. I can’t even guess at where I’ll be in five years, apart from most likely dead.”

“But you wouldn’t flip the switch, either,” Al points out.

“If you put it in front of me, I would want to,” Alicia says. “But I wouldn’t be able to erase everyone I’ve met just so I could, what? Go to college? Live a safe, happy life?”

They both laugh wearily. “God forbid we live safe, happy lives,” Al jokes.

“Ugh, that’d be so boring,” Alicia says. She leans back into the van, crosses one leg over the other. “That was the nice thing about the stadium, though. It got boring. At least before the Vultures ever showed up. Sometimes you just ran out of things to do. Not forever. Of course there was a lot of work to do, but for a few hours you could just sit around. Take a walk. You didn’t have to constantly worry about if you were going to starve or be eaten.”

“Sounds like it was a nice place.”

“It could’ve been perfect.”

“Settlements are a bad idea,” Al says.

“Why?”

Al smiles wryly. “They give you a false sense of security. Put up some walls. Install an armory. Have a steady supply of food and water. You think you’re invincible, until the walls fall and everything crumbles around you.”

“So instead you lock yourself in a tank. Alone. Just occasionally meeting people and collecting their stories.”

“It worked pretty well for me.”

“You didn’t get lonely?”

Al laughs. “I’m very good at being by myself, Alicia.”

Alicia frowns. “Doesn’t mean you can’t miss being around people.”

“You have to be around the right people,” Al says. “Otherwise, people suck.”

Alicia shakes her head and finally decides to lay down. She bundles her hoodie up and uses it as a pillow. She grabs herself a blanket and lies down only to be crushed with an intense longing for…well, she’s not quite sure.

“You know what I miss?” Alicia says, swallowing hard.

“What?”

“Being consistently clean.”

Al snickers. “Yeah, that was nice, but I was used to skipping showers long before this started. I miss staying in hotels.”

“I miss my fucking phone.”

They both laugh, and Alicia keeps laughing long after Al’s laughter dies off. She laughs hysterically, as if it’s the funniest thing a human being has ever said. She laughs so hard, for so long, she’s not sure when that laughter turns into legitimate tears. At least until the actual sobbing starts.

“Alicia?” Al’s on her feet, blankets discarded, and she flicks a light on. Al’s face reflects the same question Alicia’s asking herself: _is she crying over her phone?_ Al lifts Alicia’s legs and takes a seat. Al’s fingertips press against Alicia’s thigh, and she wisely just waits it out. Alicia pulls herself together before long, wipes her eyes, and says, “And I miss dressing up, too.”

Al chuckles. “That I don’t miss. Took so much effort. You had to do your hair, had to do your makeup, wear uncomfortable shoes.”

Alicia reaches down and knocks Al’s hand away. “You’re too close to my ass,” she mutters.

“I was not touching your ass, okay? I’m not a pervert.”

“I didn’t say you were touching my ass. I said you were too close to it.”

“You didn’t seem to mind while you were crying over your phone. You’re such a millennial.”

Alicia laughs and pulls her legs up to her chest so the bottoms of her feet press against Al’s leg. “I kept it for a long time,” Alicia admits. “Kept it charged, too, as long as there was electricity.”

“That’s insane. I ditched mine right out of Houston, the second I lost service forever.”

Alicia inhales deeply and closes her eyes, trying to calm herself. She may be done crying (maybe over her phone – she still doesn’t know), but her heart’s still racing as if she just survived a walker attack. “This is going to sound weird,” she says.

“I’m used to weird.”

“No, like – actually weird, everything considered.”

Al’s eyebrows pull together. “Okay. What is it?”

Alicia breathes in, says the sentence in her mind, and commands her mouth to say it. “I need you to hold me.”

Al scoffs in disbelief then says, “Wait. That’s it?”

“Yes.”

“You really want me to –”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Al says slowly.

“If you don’t want to –”

“No, I just – I expected a lot worse.”

Alicia shifts closer to the edge to give Al enough room to settle behind her. She can feel the awkwardness radiating off of Al, but Alicia figures she’ll get over it. Alicia leans back once Al’s arm wraps around her waist, and Alicia exhales.

“You know, if I recall, I got an earful about doing this last time.”

“Shut up.”

Al chuckles. “I’m not wrong.”

“I’m gonna hit you.”

“That’s a fight you’ll lose, sweetheart.”

Alicia smiles to herself. “Please,” she says. “I could totally take you.”

“Hand-to-hand, no weapons? No, you couldn’t.”

“You wanna bet?” Alicia challenges.

“No, I want to sleep before we have to face whatever Humbug’s Gulch has in store for us.” There’s a pause so long, Alicia assumes Al’s asleep. Alicia startles a little when Al says, “You know, I’m surprised you didn’t go throw yourself at Wes if you really wanted someone to hold you.”

Alicia stifles her laughter into her fist. “That’s so much effort. I have to, like, go outside, and it’s cold, and what if he’s not interested?”

“Trust me. He’s interested.”

Alicia hesitates. “Yeah, but this was easier. At least I thought you wouldn’t reject me. And besides, I don’t want Strand and Luci judging me.”

“Don’t tell your mother you did this.”

“Oh my _God_ ,” Alicia groans. “Don’t even bring that up.”

“Why would I bring it up? Madison will gut me, remember?”

“She’s so embarrassing. Jesus. You should’ve heard what she told every guy I ever brought around her.”

“Do I want to know?”

“Not at all.”

“Don’t tell me.”

“Well, if the Pioneers can’t understand that we’re not together, you might get a chance to hear it anyway.”

“Please don’t let your mom gut me when we aren’t even together. I’d get it if we were actually a thing, but I’m innocent here.”

Alicia snorts. “Yeah, you’re so innocent.”

“I haven’t defiled you,” Al says, and Alicia immediately launches into a laughing fit. She almost rolls off the seats, only kept on because Al tightens her hold around her waist. “Wes is probably closer to that than I am, but he didn’t take any shit from Madison.”

“Oh my God! No. We are _not_ talking about that.”

“I’m just saying, I will throw him under the bus so fast to save myself.”

“We went on one date!” Alicia blurts. “I haven’t even kissed him.”

“I didn’t need to know that.”

“I don’t even know if I will kiss him.” Jesus, it’s like she can’t shut up or something. “I mean, I haven’t kissed anyone in, like, a year.” Alicia could slap herself. She really could.

“Yeah, not all of us are as lucky as John and June,” Al agrees. “I should talk to June, get some pointers on how to find your soulmate during the end of the world.”

Alicia almost falls again and complains, “Hold on tighter. I’m gonna fall.”

“Well, I’m sorry there’s not a lot of room here.”

“Move back.”

“I am pressed against the wall. What more do you want?”

“I want my fucking phone.”

They laugh again, and Alicia’s pretty sure they aren’t going to sleep anytime soon.

*

Alicia wakes up in a bed, as impossible as that should be. She sits up, confused, unsure of where she is at first. Oh no. She’s having one of those dreams where she’s naked and unarmed. The nastiest looking walker is about to walk in, and she’s going to have to fend it off, kill it with her bare hands. Except there’s no walker. She _is_ naked. At least, she’s pretty sure she is. She’s sort of tangled in the most luxurious sheets ever (frankly, any sheets at all would be pretty luxurious after spending months sleeping in a truck).

“Where the fuck am I?” she wonders aloud. She doesn’t want to throw the covers back. She’s naked and defenseless. She leans over and searches the bedside table for anything she can use as a weapon. She finds a TV remote and an iPhone.

What a fucking joke.

She can’t resist. She picks up the phone and clicks it on. She expects it to be dead, honestly, so she’s shocked when it lights up. The lock screen is enough to make her want to cry. It’s the last official Clark family photo they ever took. Madison stands in the middle, one arm around each of her children, and they all smile, even Nick. Alicia stares at the photo for a long time, so long that her hands start to tremble. She finds that there’s no passcode on the phone and immediately goes to her contacts. She scrolls through, recognizes all the names, as painful as many of them are. She’s tempted to try to call someone, but she hears the unmistakable sound of water shutting off in the bathroom and freezes with her thumb hovering over Nick’s name.

Her eyes flick over to where the bathroom is, and her mind finally fills in the blanks. _You’re in a hotel room_. Well, what the fuck is she doing in a hotel? And totally naked? Where are her clothes? Who’s in the bathroom?

“Jake?” Alicia says tentatively. Who else would it be? She knows exactly how this will go. The door will open, it’ll be Jake, and he’ll turn into a walker and kill her, and she’ll wake up screaming or whatever. _So let’s get on with it_ , she thinks. The door opens, and Alicia steels herself like she always has to whenever she anticipates she’ll be seeing Jake’s face. She drops the phone back onto the bedside table. Jake’s name is on the tip of her tongue, but when she turns back –

Jake isn’t standing in the doorway. She’s gotten so used to seeing his face in her nightmares, she physically jumps when she lays eyes on someone who’s not Jake Otto. And she immediately pulls the sheets up farther, clutching them to her chest.

“Al! What in the –?”

“Sorry,” Al says nonchalantly. Her hair’s done neatly, and she’s fully dressed. Thank God. But she’s dressed in…a suit? “Didn’t mean to scare you.” Al pauses, stops adjusting her suit jacket, and her eyes rake over Alicia, sitting upright while wrapped in half of the bedding. “What are you doing?” Al demands. “Holy shit, Alicia! We’re gonna be late!”

“Late? For what?” Alicia questions.

“You have to get up,” Al insists. She grabs a fistful of the bedding, and Alicia yelps as if she’s been slapped.

“Hey!” Alicia exclaims. “Don’t –”

“Alicia. Come on,” Al says. Thankfully, she releases her handful of the bedding and steps back. “We’re gonna be _so_ late,” Al moans.

“Late for what?” Alicia asks again.

“Seriously?” Al says. She drops down onto the edge of the bed and starts putting her shoes on. “Your mother’s wedding? Ringing any bells?”

“My mom – who is my mom marrying?” Alicia asks dumbly.

“Okay, I swear you only had two glasses of champagne last night,” Al says. “You can’t be hungover.”

“I’m – what’s going on?”

“Madison is marrying Travis today,” Al says. She stands and turns to face Alicia again. Alicia gapes, vaguely thinks Al should be forced to wear formal wear more often. She shakes that thought away. “Are you okay?” Al asks. She leans down, forcing Alicia to look her in the eye. Wow, Al’s eyes are really pretty. “Do I have to ruin your mother’s wedding by taking you to a hospital?”

“I – no, I’m fine. I just – why am I naked?”

Al grins. “That’s not funny, Alicia.”

“I’m not being funny.”

“Then you’re being an asshole, and that’s even worse.”

“I don’t remember –”

“Stop playing games,” Al says. “Please. Go shower. Put your dress on. You’re probably not going to have time for makeup, and you’re wasting even more time messing around. Please. I promised Madison I would get you there on time. She’s so going to have my ass.”

“I –”

“Go shower,” Al says. “I’m going to go grab breakfast from the complimentary buffet. Want something?”

Alicia stutters. “Coffee?”

“I’ll be right back.”

Alicia makes a beeline for the bathroom and locks herself in. She showers, but the water is icy, and she dries herself off, but the towel is scratchy. She finds the aforementioned dress waiting for her in the closet and rushes to get it on, because at least it’s something to wear. She’s struggling to get the back zipped – and Jesus, the neckline is, like, plunging – when Al returns with a muffin and a cup of coffee in her hands.

“Hang on,” Al says. “I’ll get that for you.” She sets the muffin and coffee down and zips the dress in one swift movement. “The muffin’s for you,” Al says. “You need to eat something. You’re looking thin.”

Alicia still doesn’t know what to make of what’s going on. She grabs the muffin and coffee and steps out onto the balcony. Her breath hitches in her throat. She doesn’t know how she knows, but she’s staring out at Los Angeles, perfectly intact. No rubble. No evidence that bombs ever dropped on a bustling city.

“Great view, right?”

Alicia jumps and nearly spills the coffee on herself. “I mean, it’s LA,” Alicia says. She stiffens as Al steps right up behind her, drops her chin on Alicia’s shoulder, and grabs onto the railing in a way that traps Alicia between her arms.

“Travis really went all out,” Al murmurs next to Alicia’s ear. Every nerve in Alicia’s body feels like it’s on fire. She doesn’t know if she likes having Al pressed against her or if this is her body’s way of telling her to escape a dangerous situation. “Your mom’s lucky to have him,” Al adds. “He really cares about all of you.”

“Yeah,” Alicia says slowly. She’s still not used to the idea that Travis is alive and marrying her mom.

“I know you guys didn’t get along at first, but at least that’s behind us now. We can enjoy an amazing wedding.”

We? How does Al know anything about how Alicia feels about Travis – then or now? Alicia’s too afraid to ask, so she takes a large bite of the muffin so she doesn’t feel obligated to speak.

“Okay, we’re really going to be late,” Al says. She releases the balcony’s railing and starts to pull back, and Alicia relaxes half a second too soon. Al’s hands land at Alicia’s waist, lips press against Alicia’s exposed shoulder, and Al says, “Let’s go,” before patting Alicia’s thigh and disappearing back into the room. Alicia drops the half eaten muffin, jaw hanging open, as she attempts to make sense of what just happened. “Leesh!” Al shouts. “C’mon!”

_Leesh_? Okay, she definitely never gave Al permission to call her _that_. Out of pure shock, Alicia follows Al all the way down to the lobby. There’s a car waiting for them outside. A red Ford Explorer. Alicia gets into the backseat with Al, even manages to remember she has to wear a seatbelt because if the government somehow still exists, laws still exist.

“God, could you have taken any longer?” the driver complains. Alicia looks up, straight into Nick’s eyes. “Like seriously? We’ve been waiting twenty minutes.”

“Alicia didn’t get up on time,” Al says, fiddling with her cufflinks. “Blame her.”

“Hey,” the passenger says. Luci twists around in her seat and flashes Alicia a gentle smile. “Cut her some slack.”

“We’re going to be late to our own mother’s wedding,” Nick says.

“You’re so dramatic,” Luci laughs. She lays her hand on Nick’s arm. “We’ll make it just in time.”

“Not if traffic sucks, and LA traffic always sucks.”

Traffic. Imagine worrying about something like that. Except…why shouldn’t Alicia be worrying about traffic? That’s the only problem currently in front of her, except for the strange situation with Al.

“Can you believe they’re _finally_ getting officially married?” Luci says.

“Took them long enough,” Al agrees.

Luci scoffs. “Ten years is _way_ more than long enough. Even Nick and I got married before them!”

“Madison had to be sure,” Al says, grinning. She knocks her hand against Alicia’s knee. “Right, babe?”

_Babe?_ “Huh?” Alicia says dumbly.

“She’s still half asleep,” Al says to Luci, rolling her eyes.

“Well, you better wake up, Alicia,” Luci says. “This is your mom’s big day.”

“Are you sure she only had two glasses of champagne last night?” Nick asks. He glances in the rearview mirror. “Because Leesh, no offense, but you kind of look hungover.”

“I’m not hungover.”

“Yeah, and I’m not a recovering drug addict,” Nick laughs. “Right. That’s hilarious.”

“Ooh, Alicia and I are definitely throwing you a party to celebrate your first year totally sober,” Al says.

“I want a cake,” Nick says. “And don’t get cheap on me. Go to that good bakery by your place. Have them write _congrats, you’re not addicted to heroin anymore_ on it.”

“That’s too many words, Nick,” Luci laughs.

“Make it happen.”

They arrive at the venue, and Alicia’s still wearing a deer-in-headlights look. Luci and Nick get out of the car and immediately hold hands as they walk inside. Al’s hand lands on Alicia’s leg, and she jumps like she’s been electrocuted. When she looks over at Al, Al raises her eyebrows at her.

“Hey,” Al says. “Are you sure you’re alright? You look kinda pale.”

“I’m always pale,” Alicia mutters. “No, I just – I don’t know what’s going on.”

“What do you mean?” Al questions. “You’ve known your mom was getting married today for months. All it took was two glasses of champagne to wipe your memory out? C’mon, I’ve seen you drink way more than that and walk away unscathed.”

“I don’t – this isn’t my life,” Alicia says suddenly. “This isn’t who I am.”

Al blinks, looking more concerned than confused. “What’re you talking about? Don’t tell me you had an epiphany overnight and suddenly want to switch careers or something. Wait. Oh my God. You aren’t about to dump me right before your mom’s wedding, are you? That’d be cruel –”

“Dump you?” Alicia questions. “No, I’m not –” She doesn’t get to finish her sentence, because Al sighs in relief and leans forward, bringing their lips together before Alicia knows what’s happening. Al pulls back, leaving Alicia stunned, but Al doesn’t seem to notice.

“Scared me,” Al says. “Don’t do that.”

“I – okay?”

“We can talk about your existential crisis tonight,” Al assures her. “Once your mom and Travis are married and off to Mexico for their honeymoon. We can talk all night or until we both pass out. Whichever comes first. So come on.”

Al leaves the car and makes her way around to get the door for Alicia. Alicia manages to step out of the red Ford Explorer that she assumes belongs to Nick – why else would he be driving it? Al shuts the door for Alicia, and Alicia takes two steps and stumbles, grasping onto Al’s arm to keep herself from hitting the cement.

“Whoa,” Al says, grabbing Alicia by the biceps. “I’m serious. Do you need to see a doctor?”

Alicia looks into Al’s eyes. Al knows her, that much is clear, but she doesn’t know _her_ , doesn’t know who she’s supposed to be – who she actually is. This Al knows nothing about walkers, about surviving on her own. This Al is convinced they’re, what, _dating_? And about to attend Madison’s wedding to Travis, who is dead. How does Alicia say all of that without sounding like she’s lost her mind?

“This isn’t my life,” Alicia whispers.

“What? Alicia, you’re not making any sense. Look, just, should I or should I not call 911 and ruin your mom’s wedding? Because if something is seriously wrong, I’ll ruin the wedding. It’s okay.”

“911?” Alicia hasn’t thought about calling 911 in _years_. 911 operators went dark before the bombs eradicated most of California’s population. But here she is, standing in Los Angeles, having some strange version of Al offering to dial 911 and get her an ambulance. “This isn’t right,” Alicia murmurs.

“Do not make a scene and object to this,” Al warns. “Your mom and Travis are happy –”

Nothing’s going to get through to Al. Alicia has to attend this wedding and pretend like she knows what’s going on –

It’s a loud bang that finally pulls Alicia back into full consciousness. She doesn’t have time to unpack that…dream? Nightmare? Was it a nightmare? It was weird, whatever it was. There’s another bang, and Alicia grunts and struggles to get up. Al’s arm is still locked around her waist.

“Al! Alicia! Get up!” Morgan shouts. “Time to go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	13. we haven't died yet

She pulls the curtains back and inhales deeply. It’s another beautiful day at Paradise Ridge. Ginny has her cup of tea in one hand, a scone in the other – she knew there was a reason to keep those bakers around – and she walks away from the window and takes a seat at the table where her map is spread out. She really should check in with Maddie, but she tells herself she’ll do it once she finishes her scone and has a chance to study the map.

Her settlements are marked in blue ink. Opposing settlements are marked in red. Suspected settlements are green. And Texas is just the beginning. Ginny picks up her green marker and makes a dot over the area where, roughly, Humbug’s Gulch resides. There’s more than one Humbug’s Gulch, Ginny knows, but since this one is the closest, it’s the most logical for Morgan to run to. Especially since his group is running low on fuel.

She still hasn’t met Morgan. It’s kind of funny. She has a hard time thinking of Morgan as this group’s leader when she’s never even spoken to him. No, Ginny very much likes to think of this group as Alicia’s group. Originally, she thought of it as Al’s group, because Al had taken the lead when they’d first met, but then she found out that Alicia is Maddie’s daughter, and well, that’s just too good not to capitalize on.

“Ma’am, we’ve got your morning report ready,” Chet informs Ginny over the radio.

“I’ll be right down,” Ginny replies. She folds her up map and returns it to its normal place. She grabs her hat off the counter and takes her jacket from the coat rack near the front door. It’s time to start another beautiful day.

*

“We’re up!” Alicia shouts through the door at Morgan. That’s only partly true. Alicia is up. Al hasn’t even stirred yet. Alicia finally manages to pry Al’s arm off of her and gets to her feet. Her heart pounds, and she tells herself it’s because Morgan scared her awake. “Al, wake up,” Alicia says, shaking her arm. “Morgan said it’s time to go.”

Al grunts but complies, forcing herself to sit up. Alicia changes quickly into jeans and her leather jacket. She has a feeling they’re going to encounter walkers one way or another, and she doesn’t want to give them easy access to her. It’ll be harder to bite through denim or leather.

“How’d you sleep?” Al asks.

“Fine,” Alicia replies. She has to remind herself only she knows her dreams. She just has to control her expression so Al doesn’t think something’s up. “You?”

“Not bad,” Al says. “Hey, at least there was no punching or screaming, right?” Al jokes. Alicia barely musters up a smile, and Al’s eyebrows pull together. “What’s wrong?” Al asks.

“Nothing,” Alicia says quickly. “Nothing, I just – I had a strange dream was all.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“No,” Alicia blurts. “No, it’s – it wasn’t something that made a whole lot of sense.”

Al nods, but the concern doesn’t leave her face. “You should eat,” Al says. “Stay hydrated. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

“Okay,” Alicia agrees. “How do protein bars sound?” she asks, digging through Al’s box of food.

“Fucking disgusting, but they’ll have to do,” Al replies. “I have to change. Can you find the sunscreen?”

“Yeah. I mean, if you want, I can drive.”

Al shakes her head. “We’re almost there, anyway.”

The drive to Humbug’s Gulch is short. They’d camped just a few miles out. They reach the outskirts of the amusement park, most of which is fenced in, and their first problem becomes glaringly obvious.

“Jesus Christ,” Al says. She leans forward, squinting, and Alicia turns her gaze to where Al’s looking. “It’s full of walkers,” Al says. She exhales and drops her forehead down onto the steering wheel.

“Well, we can –”

“You think we can kill them all?” Al asks. She doesn’t lift her head. “You’re starting to sound like Morgan.”

“We don’t have much of a choice,” Alicia says. “If I’m the only person that’s willing to try, then fine. I’ve killed plenty of walkers. I might as well be a professional by now. I can do it.”

“Can you?”

Alicia hesitates. “Yes.”

“Open those gates, and we’ll be overrun,” Al says. “We’re screwed, and Morgan knows it, because he hasn’t said anything on the radio yet.”

Alicia gnaws on her lower lip. “What are we going to do?”

Al finally lifts her head off the steering wheel and rubs at her jaw. The bruise has started to fade into a more yellowish tint, speckled with green. “I don’t know,” Al says. “We’re all low on fuel. Low on morale. We’ve got a bunch of kids to protect, and we’ll all run out of energy before long.”

“At least we have sunscreen.”

Al doesn’t even crack a smile at Alicia’s weak attempt at a joke. “Sunburn just became the least of our problems,” Al mutters. Still, she joins Alicia in smearing sunscreen across her face and neck.

“What about my mom?” Alicia asks quietly. “What if we called her?”

“Why? To ask for help? Alicia, that’s the same as asking the Pioneers directly. We might as well call Ginny and throw the towel in, then.”

“We’re running out of options,” Alicia points out. “If we don’t want to call the Pioneers, we have to clear this place ourselves.”

“And then what?” Al demands. “We’ll run out of food. We need a water source. We’re going to die.”

“No,” Alicia says. She unbuckles her seatbelt. “We aren’t going to die. I’m going to make sure we don’t.”

“Alicia –”

The door slams before Alicia hears the rest of Al’s sentence. Alicia walks over to the front of the convoy where Morgan’s truck is parked. Morgan, to Alicia’s surprise, isn’t in the truck. He stands next to it, staring at the fence that’s barely managing to contain the population of the dead beyond it. The walkie is in his hand, but he holds it at his side. Alicia approaches him slowly, making sure to snap a few twigs on the way so he doesn’t try to kill her.

“Morgan?” Alicia says when he doesn’t look to make sure she isn’t a walker. “Hey, I think we need to talk –”

“You were right,” Morgan interrupts. “This was a bad idea.”

“We couldn’t have anticipated this,” Alicia says uncertainly. She’s afraid to get too close to Morgan, even though he doesn’t appear to be armed. She reaches his side but stands more than an arm’s length away, hand braced against her gun barrel.

“No, you did anticipate this,” Morgan says. His eyes are locked on Humbug’s Gulch, swarmed with the dead. “You and Al – you told me this was a bad idea, and now we’re backed into a corner.”

“We can clear this place,” Alicia argues. “We can make this work.”

“We’ll run out of food,” Morgan says. “We need a stable water source. We don’t have much fuel, so we can’t make regular trips for supplies. So we’ll either have to disband or…”

“Or what?” Alicia presses.

“Or we’ll be asking your mom for assistance.”

“Asking my mom is the same thing as asking the Pioneers,” Alicia mutters.

“Exactly.”

“We can’t give up,” Alicia tells him. “What happened to your unshakable faith in our ability to solve any problem thrown at us?”

Morgan’s lips press together, and Alicia’s mind flashes back to Grace dying in Morgan’s arms. “People die all the time, Alicia,” he says. “You want to risk all these lives trying to clear a place we won’t be able to stay in for very long anyway?”

“I’m willing to risk my life,” Alicia insists. “And I know others will volunteer to help, too. We just have to be smart about how we clear this place out. We need a strategy.”

“And we need to locate a close water source, at the very least,” Morgan adds.

“Then we better get started,” Alicia says. She’s about to turn back, to go retrieve Al and everyone else who’s willing to fight, but Morgan suddenly looks away from the Gulch and locks his eyes onto Alicia’s face. Alicia falters. “What?” she asks.

“Nick told me all about your mom,” Morgan admits. “He told me about the stadium, about what your mom was trying to do, about what you all had – about your community. He told me things were good there.”

“Yeah,” Alicia says. “But my mom isn’t perfect. Never has been. And the stadium fell, just like the denim factory. Just like all settlements fall.”

Morgan hums. “Not all settlements.”

“Every settlement I’ve been part of has fallen,” Alicia says. “So maybe it’s me.”

“It isn’t,” Morgan insists. “You’ve stepped up, just like your mom. You just convinced me to give this place a shot.”

Alicia sighs. “Because we’re out of other options, Morgan. We’ve already committed to the Gulch. We have to follow through, or we’ll end up with the Pioneers. Or worse.”

“But that would work out for you,” Morgan says. “Your mom is already there. You’ll be protected.”

“My mom doesn’t call the shots. I met the woman that does, and – I don’t think we want to have to rely on the Pioneers for anything. The last thing we want is to be indebted to them.”

Morgan nods. “Well, one step at a time. We’ll clear the Gulch and then send a small team to search for water.”

“We have a map that shows major waterways,” Alicia reminds. “Al has it. Check if there’s a river around here.”

Morgan stares at Alicia curiously for a moment before he says, “You’re a natural born leader, Alicia.”

“No,” Alicia denies. “I just want to survive.”

“There comes a point where just surviving isn’t enough anymore,” Morgan says quietly.

Alicia inhales sharply then blurts out, “Morgan, I’m so sorry about Grace. I should’ve –”

“Alicia,” Morgan cuts in gently. “That wasn’t your fault.”

“I wasn’t paying enough attention.”

“Neither was I,” Morgan says. “But I made the call to press forward. I’m the one who let Grace bring up the rear. You and I couldn’t know that she would collapse. It wasn’t your fault.”

“It wasn’t yours, either,” Alicia says.

Morgan nods. “Sometimes, people just don’t make it. That doesn’t mean you should give up on the people that are still here.”

*

They round up the volunteers who are willing to fight. In fact, every adult volunteers, but Morgan forces Daniel to sit out to watch over the kids and Skidmark. At least if the rest of them die trying to clear the Gulch, the kids will have one adult to look to.

“This is a terrible idea,” Strand says.

“Well, it was mostly my idea,” Alicia says. “Otherwise, we’ll end up with the Pioneers.”

“Frankly, Alicia, I have a feeling we’ll end up with the Pioneers, anyway,” Strand says. “We might as well bite the bullet and call them now.”

“We aren’t there yet,” Luci jumps in. “We can do this.”

“We can’t control how this is going to happen,” Strand points out.

“We can thin the herd,” Alicia says. “Then pick off the stragglers. Most of them should come straight for us. We just can’t let them break through.”

“Your mom would have a stroke if she knew I was letting you do this,” Strand says.

“What my mom doesn’t know can’t hurt us,” Alicia says. Her eyes lock with Strand’s, and they both grin. “Besides, this is going to work,” Alicia adds. She doesn’t know if she’s trying to convince Strand or herself. Either way, Strand drops his hand onto Alicia’s shoulder. Alicia takes the chance to look at all the people around her, at the grim determination etched into their faces. Al and Wes are the closest to her, apart from Strand and Luci. Al’s got her trench spike in her hand, handgun at her hip. Wes’s hand rests against the hilt of his knife at his hip. Alicia can’t help but find it a little odd that, out of all the places those two could stand, they’re near each other. But maybe it’s a good sign. You know, if they all live through this.

John and June are farther ahead, arms around each other. John’s twirling one of his revolvers around, saying something to June that no one else can hear. Maybe they’re even saying their goodbyes, just in case.

“We aren’t going to die,” Alicia says, tearing her eyes away from John and June to look at Strand and Luci. “That’s not what’s happening.”

“We haven’t died yet,” Strand says. “And I don’t plan on dying now.”

“I’m not going to, like, say my goodbyes or anything,” Alicia says. “We’re all gonna be on the other side of this.”

Luci just smiles and takes Alicia’s hand. Alicia knows Morgan is preparing to open the gates. She can’t see him. They’ve parked all the vehicles around them to try to force the dead to disperse, so Morgan is out of view. He’s also in the most immediate danger. He wouldn’t let anyone else take the risk of opening the gates, of being outside of the circle of vehicles. If Alicia has to guess, they’re staring down two hundred walkers. Maybe more.

Strand pulls his knife at the same time that Luci does. Alicia holds tightly onto the gun barrel, knowing it’s the only thing separating her from an early death. She has the Glock on her, but she doesn’t trust herself with it.

As the walkers start shambling out of Humbug’s Gulch, Strand mutters, “Maybe now is the time to send up a prayer to whoever might be listening and willing to help.”

They just have to defend the interior of the circle, Alicia tells herself. The gaps between the vehicles aren’t enough to let the walkers pass through quickly. Most of the walkers would have to climb over to reach them. And they’re going to kill everything and anything as fast as they can. The first walker spots them and directs the herd toward the circle. John does the honor of killing the first walker from the Gulch, blowing its head open with a well-placed shot from one of his revolvers.

“John!” Alicia shouts. She catches his attention and points to the van. “You can pick them off from there!”

John sends her a thumbs up, kisses June quickly, and climbs to the roof of the van before any walkers get too close to grab onto him. He’ll run out of bullets before long, but at least he can take out the walkers that pose the most threat of breaching the circle. For a second, Alicia doubts her own idea, but she reminds herself that if it gets too out of control, they can flee into the vehicles to regroup.

Most of what happens is a blur. Alicia loses track of Morgan. He doesn’t make it to the circle, but for all she knows, he lied about planning to retreat right away. He’s probably out there trying to carve a path to them. She doesn’t worry about him too much. He knows how to handle himself against walkers, and she doesn’t have the extra energy to worry about him on top of everything right in front of her. She’s more worried about the gap between the front of the van and the back of Strand’s truck. It’s a little wider than Alicia realized, and the walkers are constantly on the verge of squeezing through. Alicia posts herself there, next to the van, killing the walkers that dare to try. They’re really starting to pile up, and that’s when Alicia notices the sneaky bastards trying to crawl under the vehicles.

“Guys!” she yells. “Watch the ground!”

She sees a few nods of acknowledgement, including from Strand and Al. Walkers emerge from under the van, dragging themselves through the grass, and Alicia rushes to start picking them off. John’s still up on the roof, and Alicia realizes he’s shooting at walkers off in the distance. He’s protecting Morgan, most likely. Good to know he’s still alive.

“It’s starting to thin out!” John hollers down to Alicia. “We might actually pull this off!”

“How’s Morgan?” Alicia calls back.

“Still kicking!”

She supposes she can’t ask for much more. She turns her attention back to the circle, seeking out their weak spots. Alicia’s eyes widen, but she’s too far away to do anything. She sees the hand poke out from under Morgan’s truck first, and it immediately grabs onto Wes’s pant leg. It yanks, pulling Wes off balance and sending him sprawling to the ground. His knife goes flying, landing a few feet away, too far for him to reach with the walker holding onto his leg. The walker’s head comes into view from under the truck, missing an eye.

“Wes!” Alicia screams. It’s like Grace all over again. Alicia starts running, but she has to cross the entire circle to reach him. She won’t make it. The walker brings its mouth closer and closer to Wes –

And Al’s trench spike sinks into the back of its skull. The walker goes limp, and Wes easily kicks it off of him, scrambling back. Alicia freezes in the middle of the circle, watching as Al offers Wes her hand.

“Thanks, man,” Wes says breathlessly. He takes Al’s hand, lets her help him to his feet. “Thought I was a goner there.”

“Just returning the favor,” Al replies. “From now on, watch the ground.”

Wes nods, and they both split off to kill more walkers. Alicia snaps out of her trance. They aren’t done yet.

*

John announces when the last walker falls, and Alicia drops to her knees, panting. Her muscles ache. Sweat pours down her face. Her shirt is soaked in sweat, plastered to her torso. The gun barrel falls to the ground beside her. Alicia presses both her fists to the dirt, trying to calm herself. They did it. They actually did it. A hand lands at Alicia’s shoulder, and she sits back on her knees.

“Hey,” Al says quietly. “That actually worked.”

Alicia laughs breathlessly. “Surprise.”

“Come on. Morgan needs help clearing any stragglers out of the Gulch.”

Alicia nods and takes Al’s hand, using Al’s strength to get back to her feet. Their work isn’t done yet. “I saw what you did,” Alicia says as they head to the front gates.

“What did I do?” Al asks. She pushes her hair out of her eyes and smirks. “Hmm?”

“You saved Wes.”

“Oh. That. What about it?”

Alicia shrugs. “I kind of thought you’d leave him to die.”

“So that’s what you think of me, huh?”

“No,” Alicia says quickly. “I just –”

“I was the closest person to him,” Al cuts in. “We save who we can, when we can.”

Alicia just nods. They reach Morgan at the gates, and he looks like he’s only staying upright because he has his staff to lean against.

“Thank you guys,” Morgan says. “I have John clearing a path so we can lead the vehicles closer to the entrance. The three of us are going to sweep this place quickly, get everyone settled in.”

“Got it,” Al says.

“And then we all need to talk,” Morgan says.

“I thought water was next,” Alicia says.

“Yeah,” Morgan agrees. “But we need to have a convoy meeting before that.”

Al and Alicia exchange a look, but they don’t say anything. They get to work, clearing building after building, drawing out the final walkers. They don’t talk, which gives Alicia her first opportunity to try to analyze that weird dream she had last night. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked Al to hold her. That’s probably what triggered it. But it doesn’t have to mean anything, right? Just some weird mix up in her subconscious.

“You know,” Alicia says after Al kills another walker, “how I told you I had a strange dream last night?”

“Yeah,” Al grunts, yanking her trench spike free. “Why? You want to talk about it now?”

Alicia hesitates. “It was just – my dreams are normally so bad. Last night I dreamt I was in this amazing hotel room, and I was getting ready to go to my mom’s wedding.”

“Your mom’s wedding?”

It takes Alicia a moment to figure out how to explain who Travis was to Al. Al waits patiently for Alicia to collect her thoughts. “When all this started, my mom was dating this guy. Travis. I mean, they decided they were married when everything went down, so he was my stepfather, but they never got a traditional wedding back in the normal world.” Alicia clears her throat. “I don’t know. In the dream, Nick and Luci were married. Everything was normal. My mom was going to marry Travis. It was just…happy.”

“Yeah, but those can be the worst,” Al says. She wipes at the sweat on her forehead with the bottom of her shirt. “You wake up and realize none of it’s real.” Al leads the way into a building that is obviously a church. “I thought you said the dream didn’t make a lot of sense.”

“I didn’t know what was going on,” Alicia says. “In the dream. I kept saying, like, _this isn’t my life_ , but no one understood what I meant. And I – I expected to be dating Jake, but I wasn’t. I was with…someone else.”

“Someone else?”

“Yeah. It was weird,” Alicia says, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “I guess if I was going to have a dream where everything was normal, I’d want to be with Jake.”

Al stares at Alicia curiously for a moment as they stand in the middle of the church between the two sets of pews, facing the altar. “Yeah. I get that,” Al finally says. She motions toward the exit. “What about your new guy?”

Alicia raises her eyebrows. “Wes?”

“Yeah.”

“It was one date. I don’t think you can call him my _guy_.”

“Seems like it’s going somewhere.”

Alicia shakes her head, fighting a smile. “I think you just like poking into my business.”

“Who doesn’t love convoy gossip? You gotta stay entertained somehow.”

“Convoy gossip isn’t always reliable,” Alicia reminds. “Wes keeps acting like you and I are together, remember?”

Al laughs and leads the way out of the church. Alicia trails behind her, doing her best to stay aware of all of their surroundings. “Yeah, that one’s been floating around for a week or so.”

“Wait, what?”

“You don’t talk to enough people, Alicia,” Al snorts. “June asked me about it last week.”

“And what did you say?” Alicia splutters.

“Relax. I told her people are making shit up. I’m pretty sure Sarah started it as a joke when she was drunk.”

“Okay, well, if it’s a joke, it’s not funny.”

Al looks over her shoulder, smirking. “Oh, don’t worry. As if we don’t all know how straight you are. Please.”

Alicia looks incredibly offended and rushes to catch up with Al. She grabs her arm and says, “Wait a second. You don’t know if I’m straight or not.”

“Are you telling me you’re not?”

“No, I’m just saying you’re all assuming things about me.”

Al shrugs. “And you all looked at me and assumed I was a lesbian, didn’t you? Goes both ways.”

“I –”

“I’m sorry if I assumed too much,” Al says. She smiles as Alicia’s face reddens. “But we don’t need to have that conversation if you don’t want to.”

“I –”

“But if you want to, I’m more than happy to listen.”

“I –” God, why can’t she get any other words out?

“You what?” Al prompts.

“It was you,” Alicia blurts. She stops walking, and Al comes to a stop in front of her, hands braced on her hips.

“Hmm? What was me?”

“In my stupid dream,” Alicia mutters. “I was expecting Jake, and I got you.”

Al raises her eyebrows. “Say what you really mean, Alicia, before I assume too much again.”

“In my dream, I was dating you,” Alicia manages to spit out, “but I didn’t understand anything.”

Al’s eyebrows quirk up as she mulls that over. “Yeah, that’s strange and confusing and makes no sense,” she says. “At least, from your standpoint, I suppose.”

“I – this isn’t funny.”

“I’m not laughing.” When Alicia just gapes at Al, Al says, “Look, it was a weird dream. You did kind of ask for it after asking me to hold you. It probably doesn’t mean anything.”

“That’s it?”

Al shrugs. “That’s it. I’ve had my fair share of weird dreams.” Al grins. “Those rumors are getting deep into your subconscious, huh?”

Alicia rolls her eyes. “And I had your arm locked around my waist the entire time.”

Al laughs. “That too. Shake it off, sweetheart. You’ve got bigger things to worry about.” Al spins around and swiftly kills a walker that escaped Alicia’s notice. “You know, like making Wes your official boyfriend,” Al says. “The important stuff.”

“You really seem to be trying to push me toward Wes,” Alicia comments. “And you saved his life even though you two don’t really get along.”

“He saved me once. And I’m just trying to support you. I’d be a terrible friend if I let your future boyfriend die.”

“Right.”

“Are you saying you don’t want him to be your boyfriend?” Al questions. “Because there aren’t a lot of people out there anymore. If you want him, you should do something about it. Trust me.”

“I – I just don’t know what I’m looking for,” Alicia says. “I like Wes, but I don’t know if I like him as a friend or – or as something else. Just because the world ended doesn’t mean all your feelings suddenly become easy to interpret.”

Al nods in acknowledgement then points back at the church. “Think we could get John to marry June in that church?”

Alicia blinks. “I mean, we probably could.”

“Not to change the subject,” Al says.

“Please, change it.”

Al grins. “You want to get married in that church, too? I bet you there’s someone in this convoy that would marry you if you asked.”

Alicia makes a face. “You’re not funny.”

“I think I’m pretty funny.”

“Let’s just clear the rest of this place out,” Alicia mutters. “Morgan wants to talk to us all about something, and we still have to secure a water source.”

“I think there’s a river just a few miles away,” Al muses. “We might actually pull this off.”

She speaks too soon. They reach the final building in Humbug’s Gulch, and there are five walker bodies laid out in a line. Al holds her arm out, forcing Alicia to stop. Alicia joins Al in staring down at the walkers. The first thing she notices is the key patch each body has pinned to their jackets.

“Pioneers,” Alicia says. Her eyes meet Al’s. “They were here.”

“All those walkers we killed – those people lived here.”

“The Pioneers wiped them out.”

Al’s lips press together. “We don’t know that for sure,” she says quietly.

“We have evidence that shows the Pioneers were at least here,” Alicia points out.

Al inhales deeply and shakes her head. “I guess we have more important things to worry about than your strange dreams, huh?”

*

Morgan gathers everyone in front of the church. He stands on the steps, taking in the faces of everyone in the convoy. Alicia stands between Al and Wes, arms crossed over her chest, as she waits for Morgan to get on with it.

“I think it’s time to start being honest,” Morgan begins. Alicia can see the rest of the convoy shifting around, muttering to each other, wondering where this is going. “We need a water source, yes,” Morgan says. “We found a river on the map just a couple miles from here. But water is just one problem. We are running low on…well, we’re running low on everything. Food and water. Gas. Bullets. Medicine. It’s going to take a lot more than one stable water source to make this place a home.”

“It’s going to take a goddamn miracle,” Strand says from somewhere behind Alicia.

“Pretty much,” Morgan agrees. “We will be completely out of food within a week.”

“So we killed all of these walkers – and for what?” Strand demands. “So we can call the Pioneers in a week begging for food?”

“It depends on what we find out here,” Morgan says.

“You said it yourself! We’re running low on gas!” Strand exclaims. “We might as well call the Pioneers now and be done with it!”

“We have a few days to figure things out,” Morgan assures them. “We’ll talk it over. Strategize. But you have a right to know.”

“And what about Dwight?” Strand presses. “What are we going to do about him?”

“Like I said. We’ll talk it over,” Morgan says.

“Tell me again why I joined you guys?” Wes says.

“To try to convince Alicia to go out with you,” Al quips.

“Oh my God,” Alicia says. “You guys are the worst.”

Al and Wes both grin, but they both stop when they realize the other person is grinning, too.

“I need a few volunteers to get water from the river,” Morgan says.

“Right here,” Al says, holding her hand up. “I’ll take Alicia and Luci with me.”

“Thank you,” Morgan says. “Try to be back before sundown.”

“How are we going to do this?” Alicia asks. “What are we transporting water in?”

“Like I said before,” Al replies, “we’re going to let Morgan do all the problem solving for us.”

*

Turns out Morgan’s pretty good at problem solving. He finds them plenty of suitable containers to fill with river water, and Alicia decides now isn’t the time to bring up the question of purification. Alicia gives up the front seat for Luci. To Alicia’s surprise, Luci easily carries a conversation with Al, talking about everything and anything.

“Maybe we were wrong,” Luci says. She looks over her shoulder at Alicia, pulling her into the conversation. “Maybe this place will work out. Maybe we can make it work.”

Al taps her hands against the steering wheel. “I don’t know,” she says. “We need food.”

“We could set up gardens. We did it at the stadium.”

“Nick did most of the work,” Alicia says quietly. “And we never quite got to settling up actual gardens at the factory.”

“But June and I can totally make it happen,” Luci argues. “Alicia, you and Strand could take on construction problems around the Gulch. And with everyone’s help – we could do this.”

“We’d have to,” Al says. “We don’t have a choice if we want to be self-sustaining. But if we fail…” she trails off, shaking her head. “We don’t have many options. We can’t fail, not with the Pioneers breathing down our necks.”

The river isn’t far at all; it’s well within walking distance. With the three of them, it doesn’t take long to fill every container they’ve got available. As Alicia fills the final container, Luci joins her at the edge of the riverbank.

“We have seeds,” Luci reminds her gently. “Nick saved a bunch, and I – I still have them. We can try.”

“We’re going to,” Alicia assures her. “We’re going to do everything we can to survive out here without the Pioneers.”

Luci smiles, but a troubled look quickly crosses her face. “They can wipe us out whenever they feel like.”

“I don’t think Ginny would wipe us out without a reason,” Alicia says uncertainly. “It’d be wasteful, and my mom made it sound like they don’t like to waste valuable resources.”

“Not all people are valuable to them, Alicia.”

Alicia sighs heavily. “I know. But you know we won’t go down without a fight.”

Luci stares out at the rushing water, hands on her hips. “I miss the stadium,” she admits. “I miss Nick.”

“I do, too.”

*

“Ma’am, the scouts are back.”

“Thank you, Chet. I will be right down there,” Ginny replies over the radio. She leaves her condo, heading for the front gate. She’s thrilled to see the progress they’re making around Paradise Ridge. She has a lot of essential renovations planned, and everything is coming along nicely. Right on schedule.

“Ma’am,” Chet greets, nodding. “Eric and Nora are back.”

Ginny’s attention turns to Eric and Nora. She smiles, hands landing on her hips. “So,” Ginny says, tilting her head to the side. “Whatcha got for me?”

Eric removes his hat from his head, squinting against the sunlight. He’s young, but his hair is already thinning. “You were right, ma’am,” Eric says. “Morgan has led his people to the theme park.”

“Humbug’s Gulch,” Nora adds.

“The close one, right?” Ginny questions. “The one right near the Lanes?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Eric confirms.

Ginny grins, chuckling. “I made a pretty darn good guess, didn’t I?”

“Sure did, ma’am,” Eric agrees.

“So what do we do now?” Nora asks.

“Keep the radios on and monitored,” Ginny orders. “I want everything they say documented, and if they make any indication that they’re planning to move, I want to know right away.”

“They cleared the place out, ma’am,” Nora informs. “All the dead that were locked inside have been killed.”

Ginny frowns momentarily, but she quickly morphs it back into a smile. “Well, I’ll be. That _is_ pretty surprising, isn’t it? There had to be, what? Two hundred walkers locked in that place? I’m impressed.”

“So we monitor their activity, then?” Eric asks.

“That’s right,” Ginny says. “We’re gonna step back. See how they do on their own out there.” Ginny grins. “There isn’t really much in the way of supplies near them. Not unless they wanna deal with our folks at the Lanes.”

“Apart from the river,” Nora reminds.

Ginny waves her hand in dismissal. “The river is ours, but I’m feeling generous. We’re gonna let them use it. I’m very interested to see how long they can pull this off without us.”

“I doubt it’ll be very long.”

Ginny smiles widely and turns around. “Maddie!” she exclaims. “How nice of you to join us.”

“We’ve finally got running water in every condo,” Maddie informs.

“That’s amazing. I knew you could pull it off,” Ginny says. She grasps onto Maddie’s shoulder, and Maddie manages a thin smile. “You showed up just at the right time, Maddie. Your daughter has made it to Humbug’s Gulch with her little gang of misfits.”

“Just give me the bad news, Ginny.”

Ginny laughs heartily and finally releases Maddie’s shoulder. “There’s no bad news yet, Maddie. They’re all alive, as far as we can tell. They managed to clear that place of all the dead. Crazy, isn’t it?”

“They’re a resourceful bunch.”

Something flashes in Ginny’s eyes as her hands return to her hips. “Why, yes, they are, aren’t they?”

“What’re we doing about them?” Maddie asks.

“Oh, nothing yet. We’re going to give them a shot to build something for themselves. See if they can handle it. They know how to reach us if things go too far south. But they cleared the place out by themselves, so I want to see what other tricks they’ve got up their sleeves. Your daughter’s a damn good leader, Maddie.”

“Yeah, well, she takes after me,” Maddie says flatly.

“Now, I don’t want you to worry,” Ginny says, dropping her voice low so only Maddie can hear her. She flicks her wrist in a way that indicates to Eric and Nora that they’re dismissed – and that they better get back to work. “I’m not going to let anything happen to your child. You trust me, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Maddie says.

“She’ll be here with us in time. She’s strong.”

*

The convoy went to work after Alicia, Al, and Luci went to retrieve water. Most of the walker bodies have been dragged to a large pile far enough away from the Gulch to be able to safely burn, overseen by Strand. Sarah, Wes, and John are finding ways to reinforce the fence that surrounds most of the Gulch. June has started transforming the Gulch’s main saloon into her medical center. Charlie and Annie and her brothers raided the Gulch’s lodge and counted the rooms; they’ll have to share, but at least they’ll have beds.

“How do we split the rooms up?” Charlie asks Morgan as Alicia joins them.

“Tell everyone to start looking for a roommate,” Morgan says. “I think it’s best if we all stay together under the same roof.”

Charlie nods and goes to tell the other kids to start splitting up and to spread the word to everyone else.

“How are we going to protect this place?” Alicia asks.

“We’ll have to have at least two people on watch,” Morgan says. “Maybe even two on each end, covering half the park. Sound okay?”

“I think that’s all we can do for now,” Alicia agrees.

“John, Wes, and Sarah think they can get the fence reinforced before sundown,” Morgan informs. “So at least there’s that extra measure of security against the dead.”

“That’s great,” Alicia says. “We have water, and Luci is confident that we can give growing our own food a shot. Ideally, we’d have backup stores of food – and we’ll need something to hold us over until we have viable crops – but this might work.”

Morgan smiles. “See? Now you believe in it.”

“I believe we don’t have any other choice if we want to avoid dealing with the Pioneers,” Alicia corrects. “And even then, they might show up unannounced anyway.”

“We’ll make sure we’re ready.”

*

Al finishes unloading their water supply then heads into the saloon. “No alcohol?” she jokes when she spots June setting up her medical supplies behind the bar.

“Afraid not,” June answers. She winks, and after she checks that no one has followed Al, she adds, “It’s all already been relocated.”

Al snorts. “Yeah, relocated straight into Strand’s truck?”

“Morgan wouldn’t say,” June says. “I guess he’s looking to avoid having a bunch of alcoholics here.”

“We’ll all want to be alcoholics once the Pioneers show up.”

“If they show up,” June corrects.

“Right, right,” Al says. She takes a seat on one of the leather stools and plants her elbows on the bar in front of June. “So,” Al says, “there’s a church. The kids have turned up some…interesting clothes. Dresses and suits and such. And we have you and John, two people who happen to be in love –”

“Al, come on,” June interrupts. “There’s a lot of work to do before we think about hosting something as trivial as a wedding.”

“But it isn’t trivial,” Al insists. “Not for John, considering he already proposed, and I know you think this is a big deal. You just don’t want to inconvenience anyone, but honestly, I think we all need the morale boost, don’t you? Holding a wedding now would help us more than anything.”

June exhales through her nose. “Maybe you’re right.”

“You love John,” Al says. “He loves you. I know you don’t need a ceremony to make it official, but why shouldn’t we be able to take a few hours to celebrate? Then we can all go back to the hard manual labor we all love so much.”

June cracks a smile, and Al grins. “Okay,” June concedes. “Alright. But I’m not planning anything.”

“Leave it up to me,” Al says. “I’ll make it happen. You just have to show up to marry the man you love.”

“Just make sure to tell me when to show up. I don’t want to be late.”

Al laughs. “It’ll be soon, I promise. I’ll even find you something to wear.”

“And we need a maid of honor! And a best man!” June calls.

“I’ll handle it,” Al promises. “Just don’t leave John at the altar without warning me first!”

*

“Hey, June needs a maid of honor.”

Luci startles and looks up from the collection of seeds she inherited from Nick. “What?” Luci says.

“June needs a maid of honor,” Al repeats. She takes a seat on the porch of the lodge beside Luci and her carrying case full of seeds. “I was thinking maybe you should do it.”

Luci’s eyebrows raise. “June’s actually going to have a wedding?”

“Yeah, I’m planning the whole thing.”

“You’re probably the best friend she has,” Luci points out. “You should do it.”

“I can’t. I’m filming the whole thing. You know, so they can have it on tape forever, like in the old days.”

Luci hums in agreement. “I don’t think June would want me,” Luci says. “And we both know Alicia would never agree to something like that.”

“There isn’t an age restriction on the maid of honor, is there?” Al asks abruptly.

“I don’t know. Definitely not anymore.”

Al nods. “I think I know who to ask.”

“Hey, wait a second,” Luci says, grabbing onto Al’s arm to stop her from leaving.

Al sits back down. “What’s up?”

“Alicia told me to let you know she got room 201 for you both. It’s the one all the way at the end of the hall on the second floor.”

Al nods. “Got it.”

Luci closes up her case of seeds and secures it with a small padlock. “Now tell me what I can do to help with the wedding.”

“Well, the sun’s gonna set soon,” Al says, “but tomorrow morning, we’re going to get everything together, and if we’re lucky, we’ll be able to have the wedding by late afternoon.”

Luci grins. “And party all night?”

Al laughs. “If we have the energy, maybe.” Al stands and offers her hand to Luci. “Come on. I bet Charlie will want help sorting through the potential dresses for June. And she found some strange costume jewelry that’ll just have to do until we find an actual jewelry store to raid. Unless you’d rather –”

“I’ll keep an eye on the kids,” Luci says. She takes Al’s hand and stands. “If you promise to keep these safe. I know we’re planning a wedding, but we need to get the gardens going tomorrow, too.”

Al accepts the case of seeds and nods. “I’ll lock it up in the van,” she promises. “No one can get in that thing without a key.”

“Perfect. Thank you.”

“No, thank you. Charlie should be in the theater with the other kids. Please try to convince them to pick something…classy.”

Luci busts out laughing. “I don’t know if we’ll find anything that qualifies as _classy_ , but we’ll pick something nice.”

“This is gonna be a great wedding,” Al says.

“Probably the best wedding we’ll ever attend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	14. whatever inspires you

The sun starts setting before they’re anywhere near ready for it. There’s still so much to do. The fence, at least, has been reinforced. With Luci’s help, Charlie and the kids have settled on a dress for June, a suit for John, and rings for both of them. Alicia watches the kids drag Luci out of the theater and immediately seek out Al. Most of the kids are literally bouncing with excitement as they explain what they found, and Al grins and nods the whole time.

“We all get to go to the wedding, right?” little Dylan asks, peering up at Al through his glasses, held together by tape.

“Oh, yeah,” Al answers. “Of course. It’s gonna be so much fun.”

Dylan beams. “Do we get to dance?”

“Absolutely,” Al says. “You know, you aren’t actually married unless you have your first dance together.”

“Really?” Dylan says.

Al nods solemnly. “Really.”

“Wow.”

Annie and Max stifle their laughter as Al pats Dylan on the shoulder. “It’s time to head inside, guys,” Al tells all the kids. “It’ll be dark soon. Get to your rooms, sleep, and before you know it, it’ll be wedding time. Luci will keep the clothes and rings safe for you. Go on.” Al points at the lodge and watches all the kids rush inside.

Hmm. Who knew Al was good with kids? Alicia walks over as Luci gathers up the dress and suit, passing the rings off to Al. Al tucks them into her pocket and offers Luci a hand with the clothes, but she declines and takes them to the lodge with her.

“I didn’t know you were so good with kids,” Alicia comments.

Al shrugs. “They’re people, just smaller.” Al inhales deeply, brushing her bangs back from her face. “Oh, hey, I told Morgan we’d take the first watch.”

“He said –”

“John and June are with us,” Al adds. “They’ll have one side, we’ll have the other. Morgan thought it’d be best if we operated in pairs from the same room. You know, so we disturb less people. Strand and Wes will take our spot at three, and Sarah and Wendell will take John and June’s.”

“That’s fair, I guess.”

“The way I see it, I’d rather go to bed at three than wake up at three.”

“Yeah,” Alicia agrees. “I, um, hope you don’t mind that I grabbed us a room.”

“Why would I mind?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you’d rather room with Luci or something.”

Al snorts. “Luci got lucky and has a room to herself. I don’t think she wants to have to share with me. And you and I lived in the van together just fine. What’s sharing a room?”

Alicia grins. “Good news. At least there are two beds.”

Al laughs. “That’s a bonus.”

“You two ready?” Morgan shouts from the porch of the lodge. Al sends him a thumbs up as John and June walk out of the saloon together, hand in hand.

“Here come the lovebirds,” Alicia mutters.

Al smiles fondly as John and June walk over. “We’ve come so far,” Al says. “When John fell in love with June, he thought her name was Laura.”

Alicia grunts. “If I found out Wes lied to me about something like his name, I’d walk away.”

Al chuckles. “Yeah, I think most people would. But hey, maybe that makes their love unique or something.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself to justify it.”

They laugh together as John and June finally reach them. “What’s so funny?” June asks.

“Oh, I just know you’re gonna have a blast at your wedding tomorrow,” Al says.

“We don’t have to talk about that,” June says.

“I’m sure you’ll talk about it all night,” Al says. She winks at June, and June shakes her head.

“Just keep your side secure, okay?” June says. Al salutes her and grins as June drags John to the other end of the theme park.

“You’re armed, right?” Al asks.

“I’m always armed now, Al.”

“Just making sure,” Al says.

“So what area do we have to cover?”

Al holds her hand out and waves it across the front of the park. “We’ve got the entrance and whole front of the park,” Al informs her. “John and June have the back, and we’ll meet in the middle at the sides as we patrol back and forth.”

“Sounds fun,” Alicia says flatly.

“We’ll have plenty of time to gossip.”

“About what?”

Al shrugs. “How are you doing?” she asks.

“Fine? Why?”

“You killed a lot of walkers today,” Al points out.

“We all did.”

“But we didn’t all vow not to kill anything and stick to it for weeks.”

Alicia pulls the butterfly knife out of her pocket and fidgets with it. She buys herself a couple extra seconds to think. “I’m fine, I think,” she finally says. “I was probably just too exhausted to have a panic attack.” Alicia pauses, staring off at the buildings as they stroll by rather than looking over at Al. “I don’t want to kill people,” she admits. “It’s getting easier to kill walkers. As nice as it would be to stop killing them for good, it isn’t practical. And I don’t care what Morgan says. Every walker we kill is one less walker out there, and it makes us safer. I’m sorry, but if we’re really going to rebuild, we have to wipe them out.”

“I agree,” Al says. “But that could be a lot of walkers.”

“How many humans do you think are left in the world?” Alicia asks quietly.

“I don’t know,” Al says. “I’m afraid to guess.”

“We started in the billions,” Alicia muses. “I bet you we’re somewhere in the millions, maybe. Hundreds of millions? Tens of millions? Just a few million?”

“If any of those estimates are correct, we’ve got billions of walkers to wipe out before we can complete a rebuild,” Al says. “And the fact that it can restart at any time is…discouraging, to say the least.”

Alicia’s expression darkens, and her hand stills, grip tightening on the handle of the butterfly knife. “I don’t ever want to be one of them,” she murmurs. “No matter how I die – I don’t want my body to be one of them.”

“We would take care of it.”

“I know,” Alicia says. “Unless we all go down together.”

“Maybe it’s best not to think like that.”

“Maybe.”

After an extended silence where Alicia listens to the crickets chirping, Al says, “I don’t want to be one of them, either.” Al hesitates. “Is it okay if I talk about Nick?”

“Yeah.”

“When Nick died, Luci took care of it before he could turn, and I just remembering thinking, _I hope someone will do that for me if it comes to it_.”

Alicia nods. “I had the same thought. I don’t know if I’d want it to be someone I love, though. It’s bad enough to die. I don’t want to mess them up even more.”

“I thought Luci volunteered to do it?”

“She did.” Alicia exhales heavily. “I don’t know. Maybe it brought her some kind of peace. I never brought it up. Thought I shouldn’t.”

They reach the end of the park and turn to walk along the shorter side. John and June are doing the same, walking toward them. Alicia supposes they’ll meet in the middle and turn back and head the other way, do the same on the other end.

“It’s probably for the best,” Al says. “I get it, though. I would’ve much rather put my family down before they turned instead of after, but we don’t all get a choice.”

Alicia winces. “I know.”

Al’s jaw clenches briefly, and Alicia watches conflicting emotions dance across her face. “I’d want to do it, though. I understand where Luci was coming from.”

“I don’t know if I could have done it,” Alicia whispers. “I mean, I’d have to, but…I don’t know. Maybe in a way I was spared by not being with Jake when he died. I’ve killed people, but I don’t know if I could put someone I love down.”

“It’s an act of mercy more than anything.”

“I know.” Alicia swallows hard. “When Broke Jaw Ranch was overrun, I was trapped in an underground pantry with a bunch of people who’d been bitten. The vent was blocked. We were running out of oxygen. I killed four people who’d been bitten. Put down others after they suffocated but before they turned. Jake’s brother had led a herd to the ranch. I was the only person who was capable of doing what had to be done before it was too late. I think I was the only person down there who didn’t die. So many people suffocated. A few nearly got me after they turned. But I still don’t know if I could’ve done it if it’d been my mom. Or Nick. Luci or Strand. I don’t know.”

Al’s quiet for a suspiciously long time. Alicia gives her the time to process all of that. She doubts it’s the worst story Al’s ever heard, probably not by a longshot. They continue to walk side by side, scanning the perimeter for any breaches. There’s a gentle breeze, but it isn’t cold. Alicia still feels sweat beading on her forehead and attributes it to reliving the time she spent in the pantry. Before Nick died – and before the night she thought that her mom died – it was the worst day of her life.

“I buried them all,” Al says, startling Alicia out of her thoughts.

“What?”

“My family,” Al clarifies. “They were walkers, but I buried them all. I dug graves in the backyard and buried them, marked the graves. It didn’t really make much sense…but I had to do it. I’ve abandoned bodies of some of my closest friends oversees, but I couldn’t leave my family without a proper burial. And even then…the first few months alone were hard.”

“It took me a few months to get past the denial,” Alicia says. “I kept telling myself that things would go back to normal eventually. I kept my phone way longer than it was useful. I kept thinking everything would be corrected overnight, that one day I’d wake up and have a normal life again. It took me a long time to accept that this is how it’s going to be, probably until I die.”

Al nods in acknowledgment. “I guess the one good thing about my entire family dying at the beginning was that it forced me to accept this life right away. Not that it was much different from what I was doing before, just with a little more killing. And now I knew I had no one waiting for me back home.”

“I still ask myself how this could’ve happened.”

“I doubt we’ll ever know.”

They reach the other end, come face to face with John and June again. They’re holding hands, talking quietly and laughing. John takes his hat off his head and plops it down onto June’s, and they both smile widely. For the first time in a long time, Alicia gets that feeling in her gut that tells her _I want something like they have. I want someone who loves me so much, they’ll declare their love for me in front of all their friends even though it’s the middle of the end of the world._ Alicia swallows hard and looks away, averting her gaze to Al’s face. Al’s staring out at John and June, too, but her expression is hard to read. Maybe she’s having the same thought as Alicia. Or maybe Al’s thinking about Isabelle, or the girlfriend she would’ve married if Texas had allowed it before everything fell apart. Or maybe Al’s thinking _I_ never _want anything like that again, because all the people I love can’t stay or end up dying_.

“You said that in the dream you had that everything was normal,” Al says quietly. “Well, except you were dating me, because obviously your subconscious has great taste –” Al snickers as she’s knocked off balance by Alicia shoving her.

“What about it?” Alicia grumbles.

“Almost all my nightmares are like that.”

“What?”

“Mm-hmm. Don’t get me wrong. I have plenty where walkers get me or someone I love or whatever. But most of the time, I’m back in my old life. I’m happy. And I wake up and have to remember it’s all gone.”

“I normally don’t have those.”

“Strange how that works, isn’t it?”

Alicia shrugs. “You ever have the one where you’re naked and have to fight a walker?”

Al laughs. “Once or twice.”

“It’s like the _forgetting to wear pants to school_ dream but way worse.”

“I never had those,” Al dismisses. “I wasn’t afraid of public humiliation.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

Al smiles thinly. “Sometimes you get to live your nightmares, Alicia.”

“Tell me about it,” Alicia mutters.

They share a smile. Alicia looks away first. She doesn’t like the way her heart starts beating faster. She starts listening harder, expecting to hear something suspicious, but the crickets keep chirping. There’s an owl hooting not too far from them. She’d expect silence if the dead showed up.

“You know how sometimes in dreams your mind fills in the blanks for you, even if it makes no sense?” Alicia questions. “Like you could be in some random place, and your brain tells you _this is your home_ , and you just accept it?”

“Sure.”

“I didn’t have that in this dream,” Alicia says. “It’s like my brain was telling me there should be walkers, we should be in danger, but it showed me something pretty normal the whole time. But I couldn’t catch on.”

“That’s weird.”

“Yeah.”

“But not weirder than the fact that you were dating me in your dream.”

“Oh, shut up,” Alicia says. “Do we have to dress up for this wedding? Or should I just wear my jeans that don’t have bloodstains on them?”

“Wear what you want, but I think the plan is for us all to dress up,” Al says. She looks Alicia over quickly, so quick Alicia almost misses it. “I bet you’d look pretty stunning in something backless.”

Alicia grins. “I do,” she confirms. Al smirks, quirking her eyebrows upward, but she doesn’t make a smartass comment. “But I’m not just gonna put on a dress,” Alicia continues. “It’s all or nothing. Hair. Makeup. Jewelry. Shoes.”

“We could probably make it happen.”

“But that’s so much unnecessary effort,” Alicia complains. “I’d do it if I didn’t think I might end up fighting in a backless dress and heels with a full face of makeup.”

“It’d be pretty badass, though.”

“Or I’d end up pretty dead.”

Al makes a noncommittal sound. They reach the entrance, and Al stops to poke her head out the gate and swipe the flashlight around their immediate surroundings. The vehicles are undisturbed, and Al must not see anything interesting, because she locks the gate back up and keeps walking.

“You should dress up,” Alicia comments offhandedly.

“Like you said. Too much effort.”

Alicia grunts. “Maybe one day it’ll be safe enough for us to dress up for a formal event. You know, without having to worry about possibly having to fight in a dress.”

“Maybe one day.”

Al doesn’t sound convinced, but Alicia doesn’t call her on it. Instead, Alicia asks, “If you could choose exactly how to dress up, what’s your go-to look?”

“You think I have a go-to look?”

Alicia shrugs. “I know I had one.”

Al laughs. “Okay, fine, I did, too.”

“Well, what was it?”

“You first.”

Alicia smiles and tucks her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket. “I don’t know how you knew the backless dress thing, but my favorite one was black. Pretty simplistic, actually, apart from it being backless. Silver hoops. Red lipstick.”

“Red?” Al questions, amusement shining in her eyes.

“Red,” Alicia confirms. “You know, _red_ red.”

“I know. Classy.”

“Depending on my mood, I’d either straighten my hair or have it pulled up, some kind of a loose bun.”

“Don’t go into specifics,” Al interrupts. “I haven’t had long hair in at least twenty years.”

“Jesus, what are you? Secretly forty years old?”

“I’m thirty-one, Alicia. I’ll be lucky to see thirty-two, let alone forty.”

Alicia rolls her eyes. “Anyway, I’d wear basically any heels. But they had to be high. I don’t like feeling short.”

“Yeah, I could tell you never towered over the boys in your grade.”

Alicia laughs. “You did?”

“I hit a growth spurt early. The boys didn’t like it, but it was fine, because I wasn’t particularly interested in them anyway.”

Alicia laughs loudly enough that John and June can probably hear her across the Gulch. When she gets it together, she says, “And I had to have some kind of a necklace. Nothing clunky, though.”

“That’s pretty sophisticated for someone who was just about to start college.”

“I didn’t dress up a whole lot,” Alicia says. “I took advantage of any opportunity I could. It’s your turn.”

Al inhales deeply, thinks it over for a bit. “I’m pretty simple, Alicia. I wore one ring, just a plain band.”

“A wedding ring?” Alicia guesses, eyebrows raising.

“Jesus, no. It was a gift, and I wore it on my right hand.”

“You still have it?”

“I thought I was telling you my go-to look, not playing twenty questions.”

Alicia shrugs. “We’re on watch for three more hours, Al. You got something better to do than answer my questions?”

Al shakes her head. “I still have it,” she says. “Okay? I normally wore a watch. I let it be the one flashy thing on me.”

“You still have a flashy watch?”

“ _Alicia_.”

“Sorry.”

There’s a pause. “Yes,” Al answers. Alicia chuckles and motions for her to continue. “My favorite look wasn’t…appropriate for every event.”

Alicia’s eyebrows shoot toward her hairline. “Explain that,” she insists.

Al grins. “You sure you can handle the mental image, sweetheart?”

“Well, I need to know what you mean.”

“My favorite look was a white suit jacket over a see through bra.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Any pants worked with it, pretty much,” Al continues, ignoring Alicia’s reaction. “But that’s how you stand out.”

“I would’ve never guessed you’d be capable of showing so much skin,” Alicia teases.

“Back when I didn’t have to worry about being fried by the sun every second of the day,” Al replies. “And wearing white is pretty impractical now that we’re covered in blood most of the time.”

“But a see through bra? I could never.”

Al shrugs. “You had to be bold.”

“Well shit.”

“It was hard to stand out if you were standing next to my girlfriend. I had to go the extra mile.”

“I’m sure that did the trick.”

“Sometimes.”

“What about shoes?” Alicia presses.

“Heels. Always.”

“Really?”

Al grins. “What can I say? I like being taller than men.”

Alicia laughs. “Please tell me you have a photograph somewhere.”

“You are very interested in this look, Alicia.”

“Well, yeah, I mean – it’s bold. I could never.” Alicia pauses. “What’d you girlfriend think of it?”

Al snorts. “She always made a point of asking me if I’d forgotten my shirt at home.”

“What else?” Alicia presses. “If you had to choose a pair of pants –”

“Probably something plaid.”

“Hair?”

Al grunts. “My hair used to be a lot neater back then. Easier to manage. I don’t know. Sometimes I’d just leave it.”

They meet up with John and June again, turn back around. “I miss having a reason to dress up,” Alicia murmurs. She hesitates. “And I miss having someone to sleep next to every night. You think John and June know how lucky they are?”

“I think they know,” Al says quietly. “If you want someone to sleep next to –”

“Don’t even say it.”

Al grins. “Fine. I won’t. But you don’t know what I was going to say.”

“You were going to tell me to ask Wes.”

“Maybe I was going to tell you to ask Luci.”

“You were not.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Al laughs.

“Yeah, see? You were gonna tell me to ask Wes, because he’d probably agree and blah blah blah. I hate you.”

“You’re the one who dreamt that we were dating,” Al says. “So I don’t think you hate me deep down.”

“Yeah?” Alicia challenges. “Since you know everything, what do you think I feel for you deep down?”

Al stares at her for a long moment as they keep walking. Alicia resists the urge to pull the butterfly knife back out, refuses to give into the nervous tic as Al studies her. “I don’t know,” Al finally says. “I’m not even sure you know.”

“Maybe you do know everything.”

Al grins. “Nope. I’ve just lived a little longer than you.”

“I don’t know what I feel,” Alicia admits. “Deep down.”

Al nods, seems to get that this isn’t just about her anymore. “It’ll be alright,” she says. “No one really gives a fuck about who you sleep with anymore.”

“I know.”

Al’s hand lands on Alicia’s shoulder, and Alicia resists the urge to recoil. “You’ll figure it out.”

Alicia brushes Al’s hand off of her. “I know I basically called you old earlier, but you’re really not that much older than me. Stop acting like you’re wise or something.”

Al laughs. “Fine. How about you tell me more about that dream?”

“There’s nothing more to tell.”

“Sure there is.”

“You looked pretty great in a suit,” Alicia says wryly. “You know, a suit with a shirt.”

“I’m sure I did.”

Alicia rolls her eyes. “See? I’m just feeding your ego.”

“Please, keep going.”

Alicia shoves Al playfully, laughing. “No. It was one dream. It’s not like it means anything.”

“I mean, you technically slept with a woman,” Al jokes. “I was sleeping right behind you the whole time.”

“Ha, _ha_ ,” Alicia says sarcastically. “Well, then you slept with a woman, too.”

How could she forget? Before Alicia can try to retract her statement, Al says, “Yeah, more than one.”

Alicia could smack herself. “Let’s forget we ever talked about this.”

*

As their watch comes to an end, Al stops Alicia from heading into the lodge after John and June. “I need to ask you a favor,” Al says.

“What kind of a favor?” Alicia asks suspiciously.

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” Al replies. “An actual favor. Do you think you could paint the entrance of the church? You know, for the wedding?”

“I mean, I could ask Wes if he’ll paint it with me,” Alicia says. “He has all the paint.”

“That’d be great,” Al says. “I think John and June would really like that.”

“What should we paint?”

Al shrugs. “Whatever inspires you,” Al says. Alicia doesn’t ask what that’s supposed to mean. She follows Al up to the second floor, down to the end of the hall to room 201. “Bed by the window is mine,” Al calls. Alicia’s too tired to argue. She strips to her undergarments and crawls under the covers, pulling the sheets over her head. She knows someone will wake her up early – probably Al – to finish setting up for the wedding. She’s going to scrape together whatever sleep she can.

Alicia doesn’t know what time it is when the walkie wakes her up. “Alicia? Do you copy?”

It’s Madison. Alicia throws the covers back and grabs the walkie. She turns the volume down, squinting through the darkness over at where Al’s still sleeping, one arm hanging off the bed. Alicia sneaks off to the bathroom and shuts the door.

“Mom?” she answers. “I’m here.”

“Alicia! Finally.”

“Sorry, I was asleep.”

“Look, I don’t have long,” Madison says. Her voice is hushed, urgent. “I’m the only one monitoring the radios right now. I need you to listen, okay?”

Alicia swallows hard. “Okay, I’m listening.”

“The survivors you were trying to help – the ones with the red Ford Explorer. They’re here. Beth and Drake. I swear I would’ve told you in person if I’d known then, but I was only just made aware of what happened, and I don’t think I was supposed to know at all. Now, this makes me suspect that maybe we were behind the arson at the police station after all, but I can’t prove anything. I need you to keep listening, okay? Our scouts reported back to Ginny that you’re at Humbug’s Gulch and you cleared it out. Ginny, as of right now, has decided to sit back and see what you guys can do, but you need to know – we have a settlement close to that area. Just promise me you’ll be careful. If you come in contact with our settlement out there, just be aware that they report back to Ginny all the same.”

“Okay, Mom,” Alicia says quietly. “We’ll be careful.”

“Now tell me something good,” Madison requests. “In case someone asks why I reached out to you.”

“Um, well, we’re having a wedding tomorrow,” Alicia says.

“Who do you think you’re marrying?”

“No, Mom,” Alicia chuckles. “My friends are getting married, not me.”

“Oh, that’s good. You’re a little young to get married.”

“Yeah, I know, Mom. But we’re going all out for them. It’ll be fun.”

“Well, don’t party too hard,” Madison advises. “Who’re you going with?”

“What do you mean?” Alicia snorts. “All of us are going.”

“Come on. You’re telling me you don’t have a date to the wedding?”

“Of course I don’t!” Alicia says. “Who would I be going with?”

“Al?”

“ _Mom_. I already told you –”

“I know, I know,” Madison says. Alicia can hear her mother’s grin, even if she can’t see it. “But in all honesty, you could do a lot worse than Al.”

“Mom!”

“What? Al and I got off on the wrong foot when we met, but she seems like a decent person.”

“Yeah, she’s great, but we’re just friends.”

Madison hums. “Okay then,” she says. “Go to a wedding without a date.”

“Please. As if Nick wasn’t my ‘date’ to every wedding we ever went to.”

“But you always had someone to dance with, didn’t you?” Madison points out.

“Yeah, my brother.”

“Just have as much fun as you can, okay?” Madison says. “ _Safely_.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Okay, I gotta go, baby. My shift’s almost over. I love you, Leesh. Stay safe.”

“I love you too, Mom,” Alicia says softly. “And we’ll be fine.” They sign off, and Alicia pulls the bathroom door open. Alicia nearly jumps out of her skin when she sees Al waiting for her right outside the door. “What the fuck are you doing?” Alicia gasps, clutching at her chest. “I almost died!”

“I was eavesdropping,” Al says casually. “Madison called.”

“Yeah, she told me some –”

“I heard,” Al says. “We’ll have to tell Morgan.”

“I know.”

“In the morning,” Al adds. “I don’t know what room he’s in, and I don’t really want to wake him up, anyway.”

“Okay,” Alicia agrees. “Can we go back to bed now?”

“Yeah.”

They each return to their respective beds, and Alicia settles on her back, wide awake. She has the feeling Al’s awake now, too, and chances saying, “So there’s another Pioneer settlement out here.”

“Yeah,” Al says. “Lucky us. I knew we wouldn’t shake them that easily.” There’s a long pause before Al says, “So your date to weddings was always Nick?”

“Okay, I was fifteen the last time I went to a wedding. You don’t get to judge.”

“No, it’s cute.”

“My mom always told him to look after me.” Alicia exhales heavily. “And then he got addicted to heroin, and all I did was try to look after him.” Alicia hears Al inhale, and Alicia presses the heels of her hands against her eyes. “I would’ve loved for him to be able to take me to John and June’s wedding.”

“I know the feeling.”

“It’s not fair.”

“I know.”

*

No one wakes Alicia up. She’s lucky the sunlight streaming in from the window ends up on her face, ultimately waking her up at a decent hour. Al’s bed is empty, so Alicia hurries to get ready. She needs to find Wes and ask him about painting the church. She spots him easily, hanging out with Strand outside of the church.

“Wes!” Alicia calls.

“Speak of the devil,” Strand says as Alicia jogs up.

“You were talking about me?” she questions.

Strand motions toward Wes. “Al asked him to paint the church, said you’d agreed to do it last night. Wes asked where you were, and you showed up.”

“I’ve got the paint,” Wes says. He shoots Strand a dirty look, and Strand grins and walks off, patting Alicia on the shoulder as he passes by.

“What’re we painting?” Alicia asks. “Al didn’t give me any ideas. Just said to paint whatever inspires me, whatever that means.”

“I have a few ideas,” Wes says. “Just be careful on the ladder, okay?”

Alicia nods. “Just tell me what to paint.”

Wes has an ambitious idea. He wants to paint a landscape, and Alicia agrees and climbs up her ladder. She takes a moment to stare out at Humbug’s Gulch, to stare down at her friends, to stare out at the open area around the theme park. The painting is going to take a couple hours, at least, so she might as well get comfortable.

“I’m really glad I met you,” Wes says.

“Huh?” Alicia says, tearing her eyes away from where Luci and Al are laughing over something together, Al’s camera in her hand.

“Yeah,” Wes asserts. “I’m glad I met you. I finally have someone to paint with.”

“Oh.”

Wes pauses halfway through a brushstroke and sends Alicia a curious look. “Are you okay?” he asks. “You seem…off.”

“Just tired,” Alicia mutters.

“If you want to talk about it…” he trails off and shrugs the best he can while staying atop the ladder. “We’re gonna be up here for a while. I don’t think anyone can hear us if we keep our voices down.”

“I don’t even know what to say,” Alicia admits. “I mean, the Pioneers are – wait, did Al –”

“Al filled us in,” Wes confirms.

“Right, so the Pioneers could decide to end us, like, whenever they feel like it. And I don’t know how much my mom believes in what they’re doing, and I doubt that’s a conversation I’ll ever be allowed to have with her.”

“She risked herself by passing that information to you over the radio, though,” Wes says. “Maybe she’s not undyingly loyal to them.” Wes pauses, dipping his brush back into the can of light blue paint, then says, “But she’s undyingly loyal to you.”

Alicia’s eyes return to where Al and Luci are still talking, laughing. Charlie joins them, dragging Morgan along, and Al gets serious. It kind of looks like she’s giving them instructions. Alicia is too far away to hear anything, but she watches Al pull the two rings out of her pocket and hand one to Morgan and one to Charlie.

“Why did Al just give the rings to Morgan and Charlie?” Alicia asks.

“No one told you anything, huh?” Wes chuckles.

“You’re the first person I saw after waking up,” Alicia points out.

“Right. Charlie’s the maid of honor, and Morgan is the best man.”

“Oh. Really?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“That’s…nice.”

“What? Were you dying to stand up in the wedding?”

“God, no,” Alicia scoffs. “I don’t want any responsibility. I want to have fun.”

Wes laughs. “Same here. Speaking of – I guess there’s really no better time to ask.”

“What?” Alicia says. She sets her paintbrush down and grasps onto the ladder, suddenly worried about slipping off.

“Do you have a date to the wedding?”

Alicia’s eyes widen. “I – well, I wasn’t really intending on going with, you know, a date,” she stutters.

“So I’ll take that to mean you don’t have a date,” Wes says. “Maybe I should’ve just led with my actual question. Do you want to go as my date?”

Alicia’s eyebrows raise. “I –”

Wes grins. “So that’s a no.”

“You didn’t even let me answer!”

“I can see the look on your face, Alicia,” Wes laughs. “You’re trying to find the most polite way to turn me down.”

“I’m – I am not doing that.”

“But you haven’t said yes.”

“You haven’t given me a chance to explain!”

Wes smiles and motions for her to continue. He keeps painting the landscape. They’ve the sky blue backdrop, and he’s starting on the mountain range. Alicia falters, watching him for a long moment. Her eyes flick back over to Al. She’s getting footage of Morgan and Charlie with the rings. When she looks back to Wes, she realizes he’s been watching her the whole time.

“It’s your lady,” he guesses.

“How many times do I have to say she’s not my lady?”

“But she is,” Wes insists. “Maybe not the way I’ve teased you about, but she’s the person you go to if you have a problem. She’s your best friend.”

“I have Luci and Strand –”

“You said it yourself. They’re more your family now. And there are some things you tell your friends that you don’t tell your family, right?”

“I – I mean, I guess. What does this have to do with going to the wedding together? I mean, maybe going together.”

“You worry about her,” Wes says.

“Yes, but Al’s been trying to push me to get with you, so I bet she’d be thrilled if I went with you,” Alicia says.

A curious look crosses Wes’s face. “Is that what she’s been doing?” he questions.

“Yeah –”

“You really think she’s been encouraging you to go out with me?” Wes laughs. “You’re cute when you’re oblivious, Alicia.”

“Oblivious? To what?”

Below them, someone whistles, catching Wes and Alicia’s attention. “Alicia!” Al calls. “You got a minute?”

“Yeah, give me a sec,” Alicia shouts. “How about this?” she tells Wes. “I’ll sit next to you at the wedding, but it doesn’t qualify as a date.”

He laughs. “Yeah, okay. I’ll take it. Before you go, tell me one more thing: if I ask you to dance, are you going to say yes, or should I spare myself the trouble?”

Alicia smiles. “You should ask,” she says. She climbs down the ladder, not giving him a chance to respond. She brushes dirt off the front of her shirt as she reaches the ground then turns her attention to Al. “What’s up?” she asks.

“I know today is a special occasion,” Al says. Al glances around them, gauging who might be able to overhear them, but they’re alone except for Wes up on the ladder. And he’s humming to himself and working on the painting, so Alicia doubts he’s attempting to actually eavesdrop on them. “But Morgan told me our next steps.”

“Next steps for what?”

“For the convoy,” Al says. “Or our settlement. Whatever the fuck we are now.”

“What are our next steps?” Alicia asks.

“He gave me a list of goals,” Al says wryly. “Of course, recovering Dwight is a high priority, but so is identifying where the Pioneers have their settlements. Especially the one that’s out here by us.”

“How does he think we’ll do that when we’re low on gas?”

Al presses her lips together. “I think his plan might have something to do with Dwight.”

“He’s going to risk Dwight to get us oil?”

“I don’t know,” Al says quickly. “I’m speculating. But I doubt he’d send us out on foot to try to find a nearby settlement.”

“Maybe.”

“Anyway, Luci already started on getting the gardens set up. She blocked off plots of land, and Charlie’s going to help her.”

“So we have food and water. We need gas and medical supplies. And I need to get my mom – what’s that look on your face for?”

“Madison isn’t on Morgan’s list,” Al says. “He knows the Pioneers will never just let her join us and leave us alone.”

“I can’t stay here indefinitely without my mom,” Alicia argues. “Talking to her on the radio isn’t good enough.”

“I know. And we can talk this over after the wedding. I just didn’t want you to feel like you were out of the loop.”

“You didn’t tell me Charlie and Morgan are the maid of honor and best man.”

Al cracks a smile. “I didn’t know you cared so much about the details of the wedding.”

Alicia rolls her eyes but can’t hide her smile. “Whatever,” she says.

“We can take this one day to enjoy ourselves,” Al says. “Shit will get real again tomorrow, but we have today.”

“For the most part,” Alicia says.

“Don’t you think your mom would want you to have fun, even just for one day?” Al asks.

“Yeah, it’s just – I don’t go to weddings without Nick.”

Al hums. “I’ll go with you,” she says. “At least you’ll have a date.”

Alicia almost chokes. “What?”

Al smirks, and Alicia mentally curses her face for flushing. “Do you want to be my date to John and June’s wedding, Alicia Clark?”

It’s strange, hearing her full name come out of Al’s mouth, and Alicia falters for a moment before she blurts, “I thought you were filming the wedding! How can you film and be my date?”

“I can multitask.”

“This – you aren’t funny.”

“I’m not being funny. I’m saying you don’t have to go alone. Think it over.”

Al winks at Alicia then turns and walks off toward the saloon, where June’s just stepping out. Alicia stands frozen for a few moments as her brain tries to process what just happened. When she snaps out of it, she looks up at Wes and shouts, “Wes, I’ll be right back!”

*

“Where are we going?”

Alicia doesn’t answer, just keeps pulling Luci along. Frankly, Alicia doesn’t know where she’s going yet. The lodge seems dangerous; anyone could overhear them. The saloon is absolutely off limits. Al and June are in there. The theater is full of kids. Wes is painting the church. Alicia pushes through the gates and comes to a stop outside of the truck Luci shared with Strand and Wes.

“Alicia, what’s going on?” Luci asks.

“Tell me why Wes _and_ Al both just asked me to go to the wedding with them?” Alicia blurts. Luci laughs until Alicia exclaims, “Luci, it’s not funny!”

“Sorry,” Luci says. “I just forgot what it was like to have normal problems again.”

“What’s normal about this?”

Luci shrugs. “Worrying about who to take to a wedding instead of worrying about not getting eaten alive?”

“Oh.”

“No, it’s a nice change of pace,” Luci says. “So what do you need me to do?”

“I just – what am I supposed to do?”

“Take one of them,” Luci urges. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. Just have fun.”

“Then why am I so stressed out about this?”

Luci smiles. “I don’t know, Alicia. What about it is stressing you out?”

Alicia hesitates. “I don’t know how to answer that.”

“Sure you do,” Luci says. She grasps onto Alicia’s shoulder. “You’ll work it out. In the meantime, take advantage of it, right? You’ll have someone to dance with.”

“I’d have someone to dance with anyway,” Alicia points out. “You and Strand will be there.”

“He’s my dance partner. Get your own,” Luci jokes. “You have two perfectly good options right in front of you.”

“I can’t –”

“Why not?” Luci presses. “Because you only ever went to weddings with Nick?”

“How did you know that?”

“He told me once,” Luci says, shrugging. “When we were at La Colonia. I don’t remember why it came up, but he said your mom always made him be your ‘date’ and watch over you.”

“It just doesn’t seem right that he isn’t here,” Alicia says quietly.

“I know. But we can’t go back. We can only go forward. And you shouldn’t stop yourself from having fun at the wedding just because Nick can’t be here. I miss him more than anything – but he would totally have been my date instead of yours, sorry.” They laugh together, but Alicia can tell Luci’s trying to contain her emotions, too. “He’s gone, but we’re still here. Might as well make sure it means something.”

Alicia knows if she speaks, her voice will break, so she merely nods and motions back toward the Gulch. Luci manages a smile and holds her arm out. Alicia lets Luci drape her arm around her shoulders, and Alicia winds hers around Luci’s waist. They walk back together, and once Alicia’s sure she has a handle on her emotions, she says, “We could go together.”

“You want me to disappoint Strand?” Luci says. “I already told him he owes me a dance. Come on. You know you want to go with Al or Wes. Just make the best of it.”

“Easy for you to say,” Alicia grumbles. “The convoy doesn’t gossip about your love life.”

“You don’t even know the half of what this convoy gossips about,” Luci laughs. “I’m pretty sure Sarah starts most of the rumors while she’s drunk.”

“Someone needs to cut her off.”

*

Alicia helps Wes wrap up the painting, and thankfully they don’t talk about the whole date situation. They clean up after themselves then step back to admire their work.

“Maybe we should paint the rest of the buildings, too,” Wes jokes.

“It’ll give us something to do besides worry about where our next meal is coming from,” Alicia agrees.

Wes laughs. “Hey, wait, how dressed up do we have to get for this thing?”

Alicia shrugs. “A clean shirt might be nice, at the very least.” She jabs him in the chest. “Yours is covered in paint.”

“I was really invested in my work, okay?”

“You didn’t notice the paint dripping on you?”

Wes grins. “Maybe I didn’t,” he says. “I’m gonna go get changed. I’ll meet you in there.”

Alicia figures she should probably do the same. And what the hell? How many more weddings is she going to get to attend? “Hey, Charlie!” Alicia calls. “Got anything good for me to wear?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100% Al's go-to look in this chapter is literally just Maggie Grace at 2018's Comic Con because it's iconic and I'm gay lol.
> 
> Also the idea of Al and Wes both asking Alicia out was inspired by a post on tumblr that showed Alicia sitting between Al and Wes and said Al and Wes both think Alicia's their date.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	15. we don't have to talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will keep putting out chapters as frequently as I can, as long as I've got them. And with the addition of this chapter, this is officially the longest story I've ever written, and we aren't even done yet. Hope you enjoy this one.

Alicia stands in front of the bathroom mirror, studying herself. For the first time in a long time, she thinks back to when she broke into some wealthy person’s house with Chris. She’d tried on expensive dresses, fancy heels, jewelry that probably cost more than a semester’s tuition at Berkeley. She’d turned down all the jewelry Charlie had shown her except for a simple pair of hoops. She puts them on then tests out the heels. They fit perfectly. Alicia twists her hair back into a loose bun then wipes her face clean of any dirt. She adds the final touch, painting bright red lipstick along her lips.

She doesn’t recognize herself, but this time, it’s in a good way. Alicia smiles slightly and tugs at the black dress. Charlie couldn’t find anything backless, so Alicia settled for a plunging neckline. Maybe she’ll regret it by the end of the night, but right now, she looks pretty damn good. She feels good.

The banging on the door startles Alicia. “Hey, you almost done in there?” Al calls. “I have to get ready, too, you know.”

“Couple more minutes,” Alicia replies.

“We can’t be late, Alicia!”

Hmm. The idea of the two of them being late to a wedding brings the strange dream back to Alicia’s mind. Alicia swallows hard. “Alright, I’m done. Geez.”

Alicia pulls the door open and steps out, heels clicking against the tile floor. Al’s eyebrows raise, and her jaw slackens. Alicia takes a small amount of satisfaction out of the way Al’s eyes rake down her body then snap back up to her face.

“That’s – wow,” Al breathes.

“Don’t tell me you’re speechless,” Alicia teases. At the same time, she can feel herself blushing. “Go,” Alicia insists, grabbing Al by the arm and pushing her toward the bathroom. Alicia realizes that her heels put her even in height with Al. It’s weird more than anything. “We’re going to be late, remember?”

“You don’t have to wait for me,” Al says.

“I’ll see you in the lobby,” Alicia replies. She heads down to the first floor, surprised to see the lobby flooded with people. And most of them are just as dressed up as Alicia. Strand’s wearing a navy blue suit. Luci straightens his tie, resisting Strand’s attempts to wave her off. Luci looks stunning herself, wearing a deep red dress with a high slit on one side, her hair braided down her back.

“There she is,” Strand says. He motions for Alicia to join them, using her arrival as an opportunity to get Luci’s hands off of him.

“You guys look amazing,” Alicia says.

“So do you,” Luci replies.

“We should do this more often,” Strand says. “Look good, feel good, right?”

“Who’re we still waiting on?” Luci questions, wringing her hands together.

“Al,” Alicia says.

“Wes,” Strand adds.

“And Sarah,” Luci says.

“What about Charlie? Morgan?” Alicia asks.

“They’re helping John and June,” Luci says. “I’m sorry. I need to go make sure Sarah isn’t napping or something.”

Luci rushes up the stairs to find Sarah as the front door opens. Morgan steps in, wearing a tuxedo. “Are we almost ready to head over?” he asks.

“We’re just waiting on Al, Wes, and Sarah,” Strand informs. “We have time,” Strand assures Morgan. “You should take everyone to the church. Alicia and I can stay back and wait.”

“Okay,” Morgan agrees. He leads everyone else from the lodge over to the church, and Strand and Alicia wait by themselves in the lobby for Luci to return with Sarah, Al, and Wes. Sarah’s the first person to emerge with Luci on her heels.

“Oh my God, Sarah,” Alicia says.

“You’re not allowed to say anything,” Sarah warns. She looks down at the shimmery gold dress she has on and makes a face. “I don’t like this.”

“You look great,” Strand says. “Especially in your boots.”

Alicia drops her eyes, and sure enough, Sarah’s wearing her typical, well-worn boots. “Not another word, Vic,” Sarah tells Strand. “And no one gets to say anything about my hat.” She pulls her baseball cap over her hair and nods. Sarah holds her arm out and says, “C’mon, Vic. I’m gonna walk you in.”

Strand’s eyebrows raise, but he obliges. “I’ll see you in there,” he tells Alicia. She watches him walk out with Sarah as Luci joins her.

“What’s taking them so long?” Luci says in exasperation.

“I hogged the bathroom,” Alicia admits. “So Al’s late because of me.”

“I’m surprised Al hasn’t tried to play the _I’m behind the camera so I’m not gonna dress up_ card,” Luci says.

“I’m surprised we all actually dressed up,” Alicia says.

“It’s kind of nice, isn’t it?” Luci muses.

“Yeah.”

Their conversation dies as they hear footsteps on the stairs, and Wes steps into view. Alicia’s eyebrows raise, surprised to see he’s wearing a full tuxedo. “This thing is uncomfortable,” Wes says, and Alicia can’t help but to laugh. He grins and holds both his arms out. “You two look gorgeous, by the way. Don’t tell me you’re waiting for an escort to the church.”

“Actually, we’re waiting for Al,” Luci says. “Alicia took too long in the bathroom, which pushed back Al’s ability to get ready.”

“Hey, I – I had to make sure I was ready,” Alicia argues.

“So you delayed the whole wedding, huh?” Wes jokes.

“I don’t think it’s fair to pin that on me,” Alicia says.

“Oh, come on,” Wes says. “You know it’s taking John forever to decide if he should get married in his hat or not.”

As they laugh, Al rushes down the stairs, adjusting her suit jacket. Alicia’s laughter dies in her throat, and her mouth goes dry. Wes and Luci are still laughing, haven’t quite noticed Al standing at the bottom of the staircase yet. Alicia realizes she’s gaping and snaps her jaw shut before Al can call her on it. Alicia remembers Al saying wearing white is impractical now – which it is, of course – so maybe that’s why she’s wearing black instead. A black suit jacket buttoned over a black bra. Alicia doesn’t bother to notice the plaid pants the jacket is paired with, doesn’t notice the camera Al’s holding at her side.

Wes lets out a low whistle, and Alicia figures they’ve finally noticed Al’s arrival. “Well damn," Wes says.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” Al replies. For a moment, they all just stand there. “Well? Are you all just gonna stare at me? Or are we attending a wedding?” Al demands.

Wes offers his arm, and Alicia, still in mild shock, takes it and lets him lead her to the church. Behind them, Al jokingly offers Luci her arm, and Luci takes it. They laugh, and Alicia absently wonders if maybe they’re poking fun at her and Wes.

“Finally!” Morgan exclaims as they enter the church. “Al, get in position. The rest of you, take your seats! Hurry! John and June will be here any minute.”

Alicia doesn’t know how she ends up sitting in the front row, but here she is. Wes sits to her left, hands clasped together between his legs. Alicia glances over her shoulder and spots Luci taking a seat beside Strand. She looks further back and spots Al near the entrance, preparing to film the entire thing. Charlie and Morgan take their places near the front, and somehow they convinced Wendell to officiate the wedding. John comes up the aisle first and takes his spot. Then June follows, carrying a bouquet of fake flowers from the theater and wearing a pale blue dress. Actually, Alicia realizes, both John and June are wearing blue. And John decided to go without the hat. They immediately grasp hands, and Wendell nudges the brim of his hat farther up his head.

“Okay, let’s do this,” Wendell announces.

Off to the left, Daniel’s seated with a banjo in his lap and Skidmark at his side. Even the cat has an invitation, apparently. And a _banjo_? This is going to be one wild wedding. Alicia jumps as someone sits to her right, but she relaxes when she realizes it’s just Al, still filming. Alicia has a hard time focusing on John and June’s vows, even as the rings are exchanged. She knows they’re declaring their eternal love for each other. She glances to her left, sees Wes watching the ceremony with rapt attention. Alicia glances to her right, sees Al focused on capturing every word for John and June to look back on.

Alicia is literally stuck between Al and Wes.

Wendell declares them married, tells John to kiss the bride. Alicia joins everyone else in clapping and cheering, and the knot of uneasiness in her chest starts to unwind. She should be allowed to relax and have fun, to celebrate the fact that John and June managed to find each other even though the world is falling apart.

“Hit it, Daniel!” Wendell announces. Daniel shakes his head, but he starts playing the banjo as John and June hold hands and lead the way out of the church.

“Reception’s in the saloon!” Morgan calls. “There’s champagne, but _please_ , drink responsibly.” Sarah whoops after the word _champagne_ , so Alicia thinks she might’ve been the only person to hear Morgan beg them to drink responsibly. “And no alcohol for anyone under twenty-one!” Morgan shouts. “There’s soda for the rest of you!”

Alicia stands as Wes and Al both stand, waiting for the rest of the convoy to make their way to the saloon. She holds onto Wes’s sleeve in an attempt to prevent herself from getting swept up in a sea of excited kids. Al’s easy to spot, being so damn tall, and she finally lowers the camera as they make the walk to the saloon. Alicia balks when she steps inside. She doesn’t know what she was expecting, but someone managed to get this place properly decorated. The bar has been cleared of June’s medical supplies, stocked instead with alcohol and soda. Most of the tables have been shoved out of the way, against the walls.

“Alright, everybody!” Morgan shouts. “Quiet down!” Everyone calms down, and Alicia finds herself crammed between Wes and Luci as Al steps forward to start filming again. “Let’s all make room for the newlyweds,” Morgan says, no longer needing to yell over everyone. “They get the first dance, and then you can all have your fun, too.”

Daniel pulls up a stool and gets to playing the banjo again once Skidmark’s crate is safely placed at his feet. The tune is something sort of danceable, but Alicia doubts John and June even notice the music. They look too wrapped up in each other, and maybe if this was a normal wedding, Alicia would’ve teared up. Instead, Alicia remembers the butterfly knife she has strapped to her inner thigh, just in case of an emergency, and her mood momentarily sours. But John and June look so in love, so happy, that Alicia’s mood bounces back quickly.

When the song ends, everyone cheers again, and John and June even take a bow. “Let’s go,” Alicia hears Luci say. She sees Luci grab Strand by the hand and drag him out toward the center of the room. Better Strand than her, Alicia thinks, and in the next instant, she finds her hand in Wes’s, and she’s out there with them. Everyone else rushes to pair off, and Alicia notices Al gliding casually behind the bar, camera trained on all of them. Shit, so Alicia has to dance on camera?

“Nervous?” Wes questions.

Alicia takes his hand, allows him to lead, and answers, “Only because we’re on camera.”

“Forget the camera,” Wes dismisses. “How often do you get to dance? Especially at a wedding.”

“Never.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts, right?”

Alicia swallows and musters up a smile, tells herself to relax. “I’m dying to get my hands on some champagne,” Alicia admits.

Wes laughs, and as he twirls Alicia around, she panics over the idea of losing her footing, afraid of tumbling to the ground. But that doesn’t happen. She still knows how to walk in heels, even after all these years. She laughs giddily, planting her free hand on Wes’s shoulder again, and he grins.

“You thought I was going to let you fall, didn’t you?” Wes says.

“The thought crossed my mind.”

“You’ve got this,” he says encouragingly.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve worn heels?”

“Probably a long time,” Wes says. “You can always take them off if they’re getting in the way.”

“You’re just saying that because I’m as tall as you now,” Alicia laughs.

“Maybe,” he concedes. A hand lands on Wes’s shoulder, and he pauses, holding Alicia’s hand against his chest.

“You mind?” Strand says. “As Alicia’s mother’s best friend, I believe it’s only fair to offer her my hand.”

Wes steps aside, and Alicia takes Strand’s hand. Thankfully, he doesn’t try to spin her or anything. They just sway. After a few moments, Alicia guesses, “You were trying to escape Luci, weren’t you?”

“She’s a much better dancer than I am,” Strand says. “And I’m getting old, Alicia. I couldn’t keep up.”

They laugh, but it fades as Alicia thinks about Madison. “I wish my mom was here,” she confesses. “You could’ve danced with her. She’d probably say the same thing about being too old to keep up.”

Strand smiles fondly. “Yes, but she’d keep me on my toes, anyway.” They dance their way closer to the bar, and Strand snags them each a glance of champagne. “I’m surprised they didn’t do a toast,” Strand comments.

“We can do one of our own,” Alicia decides. She holds her glass up then hesitates. “I don’t know what to toast to.”

Strand smirks. “To good friends, both here and gone.” They gently tap their glasses together, and Alicia downs hers in one go. Strand looks mildly impressed before he nods at something over Alicia’s shoulder. “Incoming,” he warns. He snatches Alicia’s empty champagne glass the moment before someone else takes Alicia’s hand and spins her around. She isn’t prepared and almost loses her balance. She’s forced to grasp onto the person’s shoulders, and she laughs in relief when her eyes land on Luci.

“Strand couldn’t keep up,” Luci says, rolling her eyes.

“Well, Strand said it himself. He’s old,” Alicia jokes.

“Well, what about you, Alicia? Can you keep up?”

Alicia’s eyes light up. “I guess we’re gonna find out.”

*

Alicia’s out of breath by the time Luci’s ready to take a break. She even forgot that Al’s been filming most of the time. Luci goes to get champagne, and Alicia follows, figuring it’s time for a second glass. John and June are still waltzing around the dancefloor, and Skidmark is out of his crate and in Charlie’s arms. Charlie sways back and forth with him, and he actually seems pretty content, rubbing his head against Charlie’s jaw.

“You know,” Luci says, handing Alicia a glass of champagne, “Nick was a terrible dancer.”

“Oh my _God_ , he was the _worst_ ,” Alicia laughs. “The last wedding we went to, I tried to sneak away to dance with this cute guy, and Nick forced me to dance with him instead. He busted out all of his worst moves, and that guy disappeared so fast.”

Luci snorts into her glass and shakes her head. “Your date is trapped,” she informs, pointing across the room. Alicia looks over to where Wes is being dragged around by Sarah, and Alicia grins.

“He looks like he’s having a fun time,” Alicia says. “And he’s technically not my date.”

Luci hums. “Well, if you aren’t going to save him, stay here and hold this for me, okay?” She hands Alicia her half-finished glass of champagne, and before Alicia can question her, Luci disappears. Alicia drinks what’s left in her glass and almost considers drinking the rest of Luci’s too. That’d probably be pushing it, though. Besides, she can always grab another glass –

Luci’s glass is lifted out of her hand, and Alicia startles. Al smiles at her and hands the glass across the bar to where Luci has taken her place, camera in hand. “Luci forced me out,” Al says. “Told me I better get my ass out here and dance.”

“Oh, um –”

Al holds her hand out, palm up. “And since you never answered my question about going as my date, I guess you owe me a dance.”

Alicia swallows hard. “I guess so. Hang on.” She gulps down a third glass of champagne then nods and takes Al’s hand. “Don’t throw me around the way Luci did,” Alicia warns.

Al chuckles. “I’m not a good dancer, Alicia.” Alicia resists the urge to jump when Al’s other hand lands at her waist, and Alicia gingerly places her free hand on Al’s shoulder.

“Well, you’re leading,” Alicia says.

“We’re gonna do whatever Charlie and Skidmark are doing over there,” Al jokes. Alicia busts out laughing, enjoying the slight buzz the champagne has afforded her. “Maybe we should go talk to her,” Al muses. She prepares to twirl Alicia, and Alicia goes with it, satisfied when she keeps her footing and returns to their position flawlessly.

“Why?”

“I think she rejected Max’s offer to dance. And now she’s dancing with a cat.”

Alicia digs her thumb into Al’s shoulder and scolds, “Oh, let her do whatever makes her happy. And if that means dancing with a cat, then so be it. Skidmark loves her.”

Al rolls her eyes. She momentarily looks away from Alicia, scanning the dancefloor. “They look so happy,” Al says softly, nodding toward John and June.

“We all needed this,” Alicia says.

“It’s a nice break,” Al agrees. Her eyes return to Alicia’s face. “I overheard Wes tell you and Luci you look gorgeous,” Al says. She smiles, eyebrows quirking upward. “He’s not wrong.”

Alicia giggles, an undignified sound she would’ve never made without the three glasses of champagne she already consumed. “Is that the closest thing I’m getting to a compliment from you?”

Al’s smile widens into a grin. “What kind of a compliment are you looking for, besides _you look gorgeous_?”

Alicia rolls her eyes. “It’s not a genuine compliment if I have to tell you what to say.”

“Okay, well, I appreciate the neckline of the dress you chose.”

Alicia laughs, leaning her forehead against Al’s shoulder until she gets it under control. “So you’re checking me out, is that what you’re saying?”

“Please,” Al murmurs, right next to Alicia’s ear. “As if I’m the only one.”

“You’re the only one admitting to it.”

“How about this?” Al says as Alicia lifts her head. “It’s really strange to be able to look you straight in the eye.”

“Thank God for heels.” Al cracks a smile, and Alicia seizes this as her opportunity. “You know, I’m a little disappointed.”

“About what?” Al asks.

“Your bra isn’t see through.”

It’s Al’s turn to laugh, and Alicia smiles proudly. “I apologize,” Al says wryly. “I didn’t have any on hand, and it’s a hard item to find on such short notice.” She removes her hand from Alicia’s waist and turns her wrist toward Alicia in order to show off the watch strapped to her wrist. “I’ve got the watch, though.”

“Was that yours from before or did you steal it?” Alicia asks bluntly.

“It was a gift.”

Alicia nods. She can feel the mood shifting between them, but she’s powerless to change it. Daniel starts playing something slower, something a little more somber than before. If paper currency still mattered, she’d go pay him to play something upbeat. She’s becoming too aware of how close she is to Al, how they’re practically pressed together, hands clasped. Alicia’s grip on Al’s shoulder tightens. “What’re you thinking about?” Alicia asks softly.

Al hums. “Just everything I missed out on.”

“What do you mean?”

“We can have that conversation later. We’re supposed to be having fun.”

“I – I mean, I’m having a good time,” Alicia says. “We can sit and, um, talk?”

“We’re not sitting,” Al says.

“Well, we can…dance and talk?”

“We don’t have to talk.”

Alicia nods and adjusts her grasp on Al’s hand. “Maybe you’ll get another chance,” Alicia says quietly. “You know, to do all that stuff you missed out on.”

“I think it’s a little more complicated than that, Alicia.”

“I know.”

They keep swaying slowly until Daniel finally relents and goes back to playing upbeat banjo music. Alicia watches Charlie set Skidmark down by Daniel’s feet, watches Skidmark curl up into a ball as Charlie steels herself to cross the dancefloor.

“Look,” Alicia says. “But don’t be obvious about it.”

Al whips them around, and Alicia rolls her eyes. “Oh my God,” Al says. “She’s gonna ask him.”

“Okay, well I can’t see,” Alicia complains. They shift so they can both watch Charlie as inconspicuously as possible. She approaches Max and taps him on the shoulder, and when he turns around, she holds her hand out. “That’s so cute,” Alicia blurts out.

“Shh,” Al laughs. “They’ll hear us. Now stop staring at them.”

Alicia returns her eyes to Al’s face. “You wanna give dancing with Luci a go?” Alicia asks. “I can take over camera duty.”

“There’s not a chance in hell,” Al says. “I’ll get hurt if I try to dance with her.”

“It’s not even that hard.”

“Yeah, okay,” Al snorts.

For whatever reason, the next words out of Alicia’s mouth are, “I need more champagne.”

“Maybe you should pace yourself.”

“Maybe you should mind your own business,” Alicia replies. She pauses. “Sorry. That was rude. I need more champagne.”

Alicia pulls back from Al, but Al’s hand tightens on hers, stopping her. “Just be careful,” Al says.

“What’s gonna happen?” Alicia says.

*

She can totally lift her head off of Wes’s shoulder if she wants to. She just doesn’t want to. At least, that’s what Alicia tells herself. They aren’t really dancing anymore. More like standing in place, hands clasped, with Alicia’s head stuck on Wes’s shoulder.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you back to your room?” Wes offers for at least the third time.

“I’m positive,” Alicia mumbles. “I want to stay.”

Across the room, Strand wolf-whistles as John and June finally head out of the saloon, returning to the lodge for the night. Alicia finds herself laughing, and Wes grins and shakes his head.

“Okay,” Wes finally says. “We’ll stay. But mostly because I think John and June are about to get their honeymoon started.”

Alicia makes a face. “Don’t say that,” she whines. “I don’t need that mental image.”

“Come on,” Wes laughs. “Every adult in this room knows what’s about to happen.”

Alicia chooses not to comment. Alicia may not (be able to) want to lift her head off of Wes’s shoulder, but she has no problem looking around the room. Luci’s still going strong, dancing around the room with Morgan, of all people. Morgan even seems to be enjoying himself. Charlie and Max have been dancing on and off for the last hour, and Dylan has been entertaining Skidmark while Daniel somehow continues to play the banjo. Without a break. Sarah and Wendell are both finally drunk, sitting at one of the tables in the back corner and singing, though they both seem to be singing different songs. And Al’s hiding behind her camera again.

When Alicia’s eyes land on Al, she accidentally says what she’s thinking out loud. “Al looks fucking amazing.”

Wes chuckles good-naturedly. “Yeah, I was surprised.”

“So was I.”

“I think you’re a little bit drunk, Alicia,” Wes says.

“I’m not,” she mumbles. Then giggles. “Okay, maybe just a little.”

“But you want to stay.”

“Yes,” Alicia insists. She smacks her hand against Wes’s other shoulder. “We should talk.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know.”

“You sound tired.”

“I’m not tired,” Alicia says.

“You danced a lot.”

“That’s what you do at weddings,” Alicia laughs. “Except normally at weddings you don’t strap a knife to your thigh.”

“You have…a knife strapped to your thigh?”

“Mm-hmm. Gotta be ready for anything.”

“Right,” he agrees.

“You have a knife, too?”

“Yes,” he confirms.

“In a pocket or something, right?” Alicia says. “Because tuxedos have pockets, right?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, this dress doesn’t have any fucking pockets.”

Wes’s body shakes with silent laughter, and he hums in acknowledgement and nods. “That’s too bad.”

“And the neckline on this thing is, like, insane. Why did I choose this?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t want to talk about dresses,” Alicia guesses.

“We can talk about anything you want.”

“I should have more champagne first.”

Wes grins. “Okay. Go get it.”

“Mm. I can’t.”

“So no more champagne then.”

“I guess not,” Alicia says.

“You doing alright?”

“Yeah, I just – I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?” Wes asks gently.

“A lot.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know how I feel about you,” Alicia says. Her brain has completely shut off the filter between her thoughts and her mouth, apparently. How many glasses of champagne did she have?

“What do you mean?” Wes asks softly.

“I mean,” Alicia says, because she doesn’t know how to stop talking, “I don’t know if I like you as a friend or if I’d want to date you or whatever. I don’t even know how to talk about this shit anymore.”

“It’s okay. You can take your time.”

“No,” Alicia says. “You’d think I’d have bigger problems now.”

“Bigger problems?”

“Yeah. I mean, there’s the Pioneers and my mom and all the shit we still have to do to make this place livable,” Alicia rambles. “So why am I always worrying about you and – and…hmm. I forgot.”

“Your lady?”

Alicia snaps her fingers. “Yeah. Her. Al!”

Wes nods. “You know, whether you want to go out with me or not, we’ll stay friends on one condition.”

“What’s the condition?”

“You keep painting with me.”

Alicia laughs and finally manages to lift her head up. It makes her feel unsteady, so she grasps onto Wes’s shoulders tightly. “Yeah,” she says. “That’s a good condition. We’ll keep painting.”

“Good.”

A hand lands over Alicia’s on Wes’s shoulder. “You called?” Al says.

“What? No –” Wes starts to answer, but Alicia cuts in with a very obviously drunken, “Al! Hey! What’re you doing here?”

“Heard my name,” Al says nonchalantly. “Came to see what was up. So what’s up?”

“Alicia’s drunk,” Wes says.

“No I’m not.”

Al grins as Wes rolls his eyes. For some reason, Alicia finds this hilarious and starts giggling uncontrollably. “I’ll take her,” Al offers.

“Need a hand?” Wes asks.

Al hesitates. “I think I’ve got it.”

Wes nods and nudges Alicia over to Al. Alicia stumbles but grabs onto Al’s shoulder for leverage, and Al takes the opportunity to pull Alicia’s arm around her neck. “Where’re we going?” Alicia hiccups.

“Back to the room,” Al answers. “Say goodnight to Luci and Strand.”

“Goodnight!” Alicia calls.

“You got her, Al?” Strand shouts.

“Yeah, I’ve got her,” Al replies. “Goodnight, guys.”

“I can walk,” Alicia insists as they step out of the saloon. It’s dark, so Alicia deduces it must be kind of late. How long did she spend dancing?

“Your ass will hit the ground if I let go of you,” Al says. “I think it’s in your best interest to let me help you.”

“Okay. That’s a – we have a deal.”

The flight of stairs separating them from their room poses a slight challenge, especially since Alicia is in heels, but after ten minutes, they reach the second floor. “God, you’re heavy,” Al complains.

“You just need to work out more,” Alicia laughs. Her laughter devolves back into giggles as Al hauls Alicia down the hallway to room 201. Al gets Alicia inside and lowers her onto her bed. Alicia manages to sit upright and reaches behind her to pull her hair free, shaking it out, then kicks her heels across the room. She removes the hoops from her ears, sets them aside. Alicia hears the door lock, sees the bathroom light up as Al strikes a match and lights candles. “What’re you doing?” Alicia shouts.

“You don’t have to yell,” Al replies from the bathroom. “I’m trying to make it possible for us to see.”

“Oh.”

Al returns and sets a few of the candles on the dresser. Alicia watches in silence as Al undoes the watch on her wrist and tucks it into her bag. Alicia suddenly remembers the butterfly knife strapped to her thigh and begins to attempt to undo the strap holding it there.

“What are you doing?” Al asks flatly.

“I have a knife strapped to my inner thigh,” Alicia says, rolling her eyes. “Duh. I’m trying to get it off.”

“You need a hand with that?”

Alicia blinks. Her eyes narrow. “Are you coming onto me?”

Al scoffs. “No. Not at all.”

“Why not?”

“Why not?” Al repeats back to Alicia.

“Yeah. Answer that.”

“One, you’re drunk,” Al says. She slides out of her shoes and nudges them over by her bag. “And I’m not a creep.”

“Okay, then give me another reason,” Alicia says. Al approaches Alicia slowly, and it occurs to Alicia, even in her drunken haze, that Al’s acting as if Alicia might suddenly pull the butterfly knife and stab her. “I’m not gonna stab you,” Alicia blurts. “No matter what your answer is.”

“That’s good to know, sweetheart.”

“Why do you have to call me that?” Alicia whines.

Al sighs. “Can I get the knife off of you? Is that okay?”

“Yeah, do it,” Alicia grumbles. “I can’t get the strap undone.”

In one swift movement, Al undoes the strap and pulls the sheathed knife free of Alicia’s leg. “Like I said. You’re drunk,” Al says. She drops the entire thing onto the table separating the two beds. “You can have that back in the morning.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Which one?”

“Um…both. Give me another reason why you aren’t coming onto me. And then tell me why you won’t stop calling me _sweetheart_.”

“Well, you’re a sweet person, Alicia. I’m just calling it like it is.”

“You’re such a smartass.”

Al laughs. “Sometimes,” she concedes. “I think you like when I call you sweetheart.”

Alicia rolls her eyes overdramatically but grudgingly admits, “Yeah, sometimes.”

“See?”

“Why aren’t you coming onto me then?”

“You’re drunk,” Al repeats.

“Is that the only reason you’ve got, _sweetheart_?” Alicia asks wryly.

“You’re funny.”

“Be honest.”

Al pauses, standing in the space between the two beds. Alicia sits on the edge, staring up at Al, waiting with one eyebrow raised. “Actually,” Al says, “yeah. Pretty much.”

“So if I was sober, you could…what’s the – the word? Oh! You would make a move, then?”

“No, probably not.”

“Why not?” Alicia exclaims.

“Because I’m not an idiot,” Al answers. “And, believe it or not, I actually value our friendship.” As Alicia shoves herself upright, Al holds her hands out and groans, “Oh, come _on_. Stay down. We’ve already established that you can barely stand.” Alicia grabs two fistfuls of Al’s suit jacket, and Al exhales heavily. “Be careful with that,” Al insists.

“You’ve got a bra on. What’s gonna happen?” Alicia mutters. Her eyes are hazy, but she blinks a few times and tries to focus.

“What are you doing, Alicia?” Al asks gently. She lays her hands over Alicia’s, tries to get her to loosen her grasp.

“I am regretting drinking so much champagne,” Alicia admits.

“Well, I can guarantee you that you’ll regret it even more in the morning, sweetheart. Let’s sit back down, okay?” Al guides Alicia back, gently encourages her to sit back down. Alicia still holds onto the front of Al’s jacket, refusing to let Al move back. “Alicia, I need you to let go, please,” Al says softly.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know why you can’t let go?”

Alicia falters. She struggles to think properly through the effects of the alcohol. “I don’t know why I can’t let go,” Alicia says.

“Just open your hands.”

“No, I mean –” Alicia’s eyebrows pull together. “I can’t let go.”

“It’s okay,” Al says. It’s obvious she has no idea what Alicia means. She just tries to speak in a soothing voice while attempting to pry Alicia’s hands open. “If you let go and let me change, we can talk about it, okay?”

“Don’t change,” Alicia says.

“I just have to put other clothes on.”

“I like this look,” Alicia says bluntly.

“Thank you, but I can’t sleep in this.”

“We aren’t sleeping.”

Al places her hands on Alicia’s jaw, holds her head in place so their eyes lock. “Please,” Al says as clearly as she can, “let go of my jacket.”

Alicia’s lips part, and after a moment, she nods and lets go of Al’s jacket. Before Al can drop her hands from Alicia’s face, Alicia leans forward, pushes her hand into Al’s hair, and manages to bring their lips together even with the champagne clouding her mind. It feels like barely a second passes when Al’s palm presses firmly against the center of Alicia’s chest and pushes her back. Alicia’s too drunk to hang on, and she falls back onto the bed, giggling.

“Don’t do that,” Al says, half in pure shock, half in anger. Her anger, thankfully, dissipates quickly, but she touches her fingertips to her lower lip as if she’s been punched square in the mouth. Then she swipes her finger along her lip, wiping away the red lipstick Alicia left behind.

“Why not?” Alicia asks, breathless from laughing.

“It’s not funny.”

Alicia’s laughter cuts off abruptly. She manages to push herself back up into a seated position, looks Al in the eye, and says, “No. It’s not funny at all.”

Al shakes her head, looking a little more than disgruntled. “Don’t do that again.”

“Not even if I want to?”

Al hesitates, studying the serious expression now plastered onto Alicia’s face. “Not when you’re drunk.”

“I’m drunk right now, but I mean in the future.”

“Well, you can worry about the future when you’re sober,” Al says. She goes to get a water bottle out of her bag and sets it on the bedside table within Alicia’s reach. “I’m sure you’ll want that sometime soon.”

As Al turns to go, Alicia surges forward and grabs a fistful of the back of her jacket. “Wait!” Alicia says. “Don’t go!”

“Let go,” Al says, reaching behind her for Alicia’s hand. Alicia releases the jacket in favor of latching onto Al’s hand instead, and Al manages to turn back to face her. Al’s expression softens. “What’s the matter?” she asks.

“Don’t go.”

“I’m right here,” Al says.

“No, you’re – you’re going to change and – and sleep in that other bed. Don’t do that.”

“What am I supposed to do then?”

“Stay,” Alicia whispers. “I can’t – I won’t be able to sleep alone.”

“I can’t even change?”

“No.”

Al sighs heavily. “So you aren’t going to change either?”

“I can’t get out of this thing by myself right now.”

“Good point. Get on your side,” Al says. Alicia nods solemnly and scoots herself toward the edge of the bed. “Stay over there,” Al warns. Like it even matters. They have no choice but to be close to each other if they both want to stay on the bed.

“Wake me up if something happens,” Alicia mumbles.

“I will.”

“No, I mean like – if I dream something.”

“I – okay, sure. I’ll wake you up.”

“Good,” Alicia says. Within minutes, she’s snoring loudly. Al tries to slowly roll off the bed to get up and change, but the snoring stops, and Alicia bolts upright. “Where’re you going?” she demands.

“Nowhere.”

Alicia squints at Al. She pats the small space between them then lies back down facing the wall. She’s waiting. Al exhales and lies back down, too. Looks like she’s sleeping in a suit jacket and dress slacks.

*

Alicia wakes up with a pounding headache and the vague feeling that she dreamt about kissing someone. She inhales deeply, groaning, and realizes her cheek is pressed against someone’s bare skin. So is the palm of her hand. Panic floods her system, and Alicia closes her eyes, urges herself to calm down. What did she do? She’s pretty sure it was nothing –

She kissed Al. That wasn’t a dream. Oh _shit_. It all comes back, and she suddenly wishes she’d drank enough to blackout. Alicia opens her eyes, takes in her surroundings. She’s in her room. The body beneath her is Al – and Al’s mostly wearing clothes. That’s a good sign. Alicia lifts her head from Al’s chest, removes her hand from Al’s stomach, and exhales in relief. Her suit jacket had been unbuttoned at some point, but Al’s still wearing a bra, so Alicia is in the clear. Almost. Except for that whole kissing thing.

Alicia winces against the pain in her head, against the sunlight streaming in through the one window. She slept in the dress? How obnoxious. Alicia misestimates how much space she has behind her and slides right off the bed, landing with a thud on her ass.

“Motherfucking fuck –”

“What happened?” Al says groggily.

“Go back to sleep,” Alicia says.

“Where are you?”

“The floor.”

“Why?”

“I fell,” Alicia grunts. “I’m getting up. Just – please. Go back to sleep.”

Al hums and seems to do just that, rolling into the center of the bed, getting tangled in Alicia’s sheets. If someone were to, for whatever reason, walk in right now, this would look really bad. Alicia double checks that the door is locked then finds something practical to change into. Jesus, her head is _killing_ her. She gets her jeans up, gets a bra on, then goes to grab the water bottle from the table. She downs half of it in one go then rummages through Al’s bag in search of some ibuprofen.

“Thank God,” she breathes when she finds it.

“You should thank me, not God.”

Alicia startles and spills water down her chin. “You trying to give me a heart attack?” Alicia hisses. She wipes at her chin with the bottom of her shirt and turns to face her bed where Al is just sitting up.

“No, that was just a bonus,” Al says. She gets to her feet and immediately pulls the suit jacket off of herself, tossing it over onto her bed. “I think we need to talk.”

“I think you need to put a shirt on first.”

Al holds her hands out and impatiently motions for Alicia to throw her one from her bag. Alicia throws the first one she grabs Al’s way, and Al yanks the plain black shirt over her head, shoves the sleeves up to her elbows.

“Now you put a shirt on,” Al says. “Then we’re gonna sit and have a conversation.”

Alicia grimaces. She finishes her water then pulls a shirt on. She remembers to button and zip her jeans. And she finally realizes she’s still got lipstick smeared on her face and wipes it off with a handkerchief. “You know, I actually have to –”

“We can sit or we can take a walk,” Al offers. “But you aren’t getting out of this, Alicia.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Alicia blurts. “I was drunk, and I crossed a line. I know I did. We don’t have to talk about it. I get it if you’re mad or – or whatever you’re feeling. I should’ve controlled myself better, and I’m sorry.”

Al nods. “Okay, that’s a start.”

“A start? Aren’t there things to do?”

“You aren’t the only hungover person in the convoy, Alicia,” Al assures her. “Sarah and Wendell will sleep all day, I’m sure. So we’re gonna talk.”

“About what?” Alicia prompts. She sure as hell isn’t going to bring up what happened. If Al wants to talk, Al’s going to spell everything out for her.

“You kissed me.”

Alicia sits back on the edge of her bed. She’s suddenly feeling lightheaded. “Yeah,” she concedes. “I did. And I was drunk and I shouldn’t have.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Seriously,” Alicia says.

“I believe you.”

“You don’t sound like you do.”

“Can you look at me?” Al requests. Alicia lifts her eyes to meet Al’s gaze. “Why’d you do it?”

“I was drunk.” Alicia shrugs, smiles mirthlessly. “I guess I wanted to.”

“You guess?”

“I wanted to,” Alicia asserts. “Sue me when the courts reopen.”

Al’s eyebrows raise. “You can’t do that.”

“I can’t do what?”

“You can’t kiss me when you’re drunk.”

“I already said I’m sorry –”

“Swear you won’t do it again,” Al insists.

“I doubt I’ll get drunk again, that’s for sure.” Alicia pauses, chewing on her lower lip. “You meant swear I’ll never kiss you again, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“Then we’re going to have a serious problem.”

“Why? I kissed you once. I apologized. It’s over. Let’s just move forward –”

“No,” Al says sharply.

“Why not?” Alicia asks, slapping her hands against her knees in exasperation. “What’s the big deal?”

“I’ve done this before,” Al snaps. Alicia holds eye contact even as she winces, even though she’d much rather look away. “I’ve dealt with the girl who’ll kiss you when she’s drunk but doesn’t give you the time of day when she’s sober. I’m not doing it again.”

Alicia’s stunned into silence, and her pounding headache isn’t helping matters. “Is that what you think I’m doing?” she says.

“If it’s not, then what are you doing, Alicia?” Al asks. “Please, fill me in. I’m dying to know.”

“I’ve got a lot of shit to figure out, okay?” Alicia says. “I don’t need this, too –”

“Then you shouldn’t have kissed me. But you did. I can’t go back and stop you.”

“What’s your deal?” Alicia asks.

“My _deal_?” Al says. Her voice is starting to get a little shrill, and Alicia looks uneasily toward the room’s only exit. “My _deal_ is that you spent half the night all over Wes, but we get back here – you know what? Forget it. Just forget it.”

“No. You wanted to talk about it. We’re talking about it.” Alicia jumps up, has to physically block Al from leaving the room. “So we’re talking,” Alicia says quietly. “Let’s – let’s keep doing that?”

“Is it even worth my time, Alicia?”

Alicia balks. “Is what worth your time? Me?”

“This conversation.”

“I – I don’t know, Al. Is it?”

“You tell me.” When Alicia doesn’t have an immediate answer, Al sighs. “Move,” she says. “There are things to do.”

Alicia grabs Al by the shoulder, forces her to stop trying to walk past her. Maybe Alicia’s a little stronger than she realized. Then Al breaks Alicia’s grasp on her shoulder and keeps walking. The door slams behind her, and Alicia exhales heavily.

“What have I done?” she mutters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	16. why does it matter?

Al avoids Alicia all day. Al’s absence doesn’t surprise Alicia, but it _does_ surprise her how much it stings. So Alicia retreats to the area that Luci sectioned off for their gardens. She helps Luci plant seeds, water the soil, and make markers for the crops. She asks questions that Luci can usually provide an answer for, except for one.

“Will these be able to grow here?”

Luci presses her lips together. “I hope so,” she says. Luci sighs and rubs at the sweat on her forehead with her sleeve. “What’s up with Al?” Luci asks. “She’s been acting weird all day. Even June came to ask me what was going on.”

“Oh, she’s just – not thrilled that I got drunk last night,” Alicia mumbles. “You know.”

“She seemed perfectly fine taking you back to the room.”

“Yeah, well, when we got there, I was…difficult.”

“Well, she better get over it fast,” Luci comments. “I know you’re still hungover, but Morgan said you and Al are on first shift tonight with John and June.”

Alicia groans. “I feel like shit, and I have to go on watch in, what? Four hours?”

“Yep. Sorry.”

“Okay, then I need to nap,” Alicia grumbles. “Thanks for letting me follow you around.”

“Thanks for entertaining me.”

Alicia heads up to her room, hoping Al isn’t there. She gets lucky. The room is empty. She crawls under the covers and pulls them over her head to block out the sunlight. She hates that the sheets still smell like Al.

*

“Mr. Todd Allen,” Ginny says cheerfully over the radio. “Talk to me. How’s it going over at the Lanes?”

There’s a brief pause before Todd’s voice comes across the radio. “Nothing new to report, ma’am. Everything’s going smoothly. We’re moving forward, right on schedule.”

“I knew if I put you in charge out there, you’d make it happen,” Ginny replies. “I didn’t just call for an update, I must admit. I’ve got a more important question for you.”

“What do you need to know?”

“Have you had any contact with anyone from Humbug’s Gulch?”

“I have not,” Todd answers. “And no one here has reported seeing or interacting with any outsiders. Seems like they haven’t ventured out this way yet.”

Ginny hums to herself, tapping her fingers against her desk. “Tell you what, Todd. If you hear anything from our friends at the Gulch – if anyone in your settlement hears or sees anything – report it directly back to me, alright?”

“Absolutely, ma’am.”

“Thank you very much,” Ginny says. “Now, do you think you’re going to need extra hands to get the Lanes up and fully functional?”

“I think we can manage.”

“You be sure to let me know if the situation changes,” Ginny says.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And I’m doing my best to keep all my leaders updated. You know how rapidly things can change. Let me know if I can do anything for you.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Keep your radios active and monitored.”

Ginny signs off and stands from her desk. She’d almost missed her usual check-in with the leaders of her other settlements. She’d slept in for the first time in, well, years, probably. It was a small mistake, but not one she’ll soon forget. It’s almost noon, and Ginny hasn’t even gotten dressed yet. She supposes there’s no reason to rush now. She’s already behind. The old Ginny – the corporate efficiency analyst Ginny, who went exclusively by Virginia and had her own office and a desk filled with photographs of her nieces and nephews and fiancé – would’ve never gotten behind like this.

Fuck it. Even leaders need a break. Ginny pours herself a second cup of tea and leans back against the kitchen counter. Ginny thinks, mildly amused, about what would happen if someone showed up at her doorstep while she was still in her underwear, sipping away at a second cup of tea, even though it’s almost noon. In fact, the thought even makes her smile. The funniest thing, though, is that Dr. Hayley Ramsey – who was smack in the middle of an orthopedic surgery residency when the shit hit the fan – is still in Ginny’s bed.

Dr. Ramsey is the polar opposite of the fiancé Ginny left behind in the old world – not that she left him behind by choice – but that’s how Ginny wants it to be. She can’t go compromising her leadership with something as silly as feelings. Dr. Ramsey is young and idealistic, wickedly intelligent and, yes, incredibly pretty, but Hell will freeze over before Ginny goes and falls in love with her. Ginny smiles to herself at the thought. It’s ridiculous. Ginny can look for love when her work is complete, and it’ll be a long time before that happens.

Ginny finishes her tea, sets the mug in the sink, and picks up the walkie she left on the coffee table. “Maddie, do you copy?” Ginny says.

“I copy.”

“Perfect. I’ve got some things to take care of, so I need you to be in charge for a little while. If you think you can handle it.”

“I can handle it,” Maddie assures her.

“Beautiful,” Ginny replies. “I’ll let you know when I’m done.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Maybe ditching her responsibilities in order to spend a few more hours in bed with Dr. Ramsey is improper. But with Maddie in charge, who’s going to know? Besides, no one should come looking for her now that they know she’s busy. Let them think she’s doing something important.

“You’re done already?” Dr. Hayley Ramsey mumbles. She’s all twisted up in the sheets of Ginny’s bed. Her hair’s messy. And she’s not wearing anything. Ginny doubts anyone else has ever seen Dr. Ramsey quite like this. She’s always so composed. Just like Ginny usually is.

“No one was very talkative today,” Ginny says.

“You don’t have to go?”

“Maddie’s holding down the fort for a few hours.”

“Hmm. Good.”

Ginny drops down on the open side of the bed, exhaling. She turned the ripe old age of twenty-eight just a couple months ago, before Morgan became a thorn in her side, but she feels double that, easily. Her bones ache. Ginny’s back bothers her the most. Dr. Ramsey starts to detangle herself from the sheets in order to roll over and face Ginny, propping her head up on her hand.

“How’s your back?” Dr. Ramsey asks.

“Same as always,” Ginny says, flashing a smile. “Makes me feel like I’m forty-eight rather than twenty-eight.”

“We’ll be lucky to see forty-eight.”

“I’m doing everything I can to make it happen.”

There’s a pause before Dr. Ramsey asks, “You think Todd can get the Lanes put together?”

“If Todd can’t, then I guess I’ll have to go do it myself.”

*

“Hey, you need to get up.”

Alicia groans, still buried beneath the sheets. “Why?”

“We’re going on watch in ten.”

“Go without me.”

Al exhales heavily. “I would if Morgan would allow it.”

Alicia throws the covers back, surprised to see the sun has mostly set. Did she nap for almost four hours? Her headache, at least, is mostly gone. And she doesn’t remember dreaming. She was _out_. She looks over to where Al’s digging through her bag and waits to see what Al’s looking for. After a minute, Al pulls out a jacket. Al catches Alicia staring at her before Alicia can avert her gaze, but Al just stares back.

“You’re gonna want to put on a jacket,” Al advises. “It’s getting cold out there.”

Alicia nods. “Okay.”

“Meet us at the saloon in ten minutes,” Al says. “We’re on duty until three.”

Like always. Alicia just nods again and watches as Al leaves the room. She gets up and grabs her hoodie, yanking it over her head. She quickly brushes the knots from her hair, deciding to leave it down. She grabs a quick snack then joins Al, John, and June outside of the saloon.

“There she is,” John greets. “Have a nice nap?”

Alicia grunts. “It ended too soon.”

“Still hungover?” John chuckles.

“A little.”

He produces a bottle of water seemingly from nowhere and holds it out. “Gotta stay hydrated,” he says.

“So, same routine as last time?” Al questions.

“I don’t see why not,” June answers. “It seemed to work.”

“You just want more alone time with your husband,” Alicia says.

John and June laugh, and June admits, “Yes, you’re right.”

Normally, Alicia would appreciate being able to carry a conversation with Al for a few consecutive hours without interruption, but now she’s dreading it. As John and June leave to start patrolling the back half of the Gulch, Alicia shifts her weight nervously from foot to foot. She isn’t sure how Al’s going to act, and that makes her unsure of how to act herself. Al starts walking, so Alicia follows a couple steps behind her, sipping at her water. The silence is as awkward as it’s ever been, but Alicia can’t think of anything to say to break it. She might as well stay silent if the alternative is babbling about something unimportant.

Al is uncharacteristically quiet, too. Normally she has some kind of a question to ask. Now, she says nothing. They patrol the front end of Humbug’s Gulch in silence until Alicia finishes off her water and ditches the empty bottle. Alicia shudders. Even with a hoodie, it’s pretty cold.

“You were right,” Alicia says. She clears her throat. “It’s cold.”

“I know.”

Silence. Alicia exhales through her nose. “That’s it?”

“Hmm.”

“You don’t want to talk?”

“About what?” Al says. She continues walking a few steps ahead of Alicia. Alicia stares at the back of Al’s head.

“Anything.”

“I’m fine with not talking.”

Alicia scoffs. “Please. You never shut up.”

Al shoots a glare over her shoulder but says nothing.

“I’m sorry, Al,” Alicia says. “Can we just –?”

Al spins around but continues walking backward. “Can we just what?” she prompts. “Forget it and go back to how we were?”

“I don’t know if that’s what I –”

“There’s no going back,” Al interrupts.

“Then let’s go forward?”

Al shakes her head and turns her back to Alicia once more. “How?”

“We can talk about what’s wrong? Try to sort it out.”

Al stops walking abruptly, and Alicia slams right into her back. Alicia grunts and immediately steps out of Al’s space, but Al acts as though Alicia didn’t run into her. “Then I need you to tell me what’s going on with you and Wes.”

Alicia balks. “Wes? What does he have to do with anything?”

“You want to move forward? You can answer my questions.”

“I don’t know how to answer that,” Alicia says. “We went on one date. What does that make us?”

“Are you asking me?”

“I don’t have an answer.”

“If he asked you out again. Would you say yes?”

Alicia falters. “I don’t know,” she admits. “I mean, we’re friends. He said we’d stay friends as long as we kept painting.”

Al finally turns to face Alicia, finally makes eye contact. “Are you happy just being his friend?” Al asks quietly.

Alicia doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Al nods curtly. “We need to keep moving.”

“If there’s something out here, we’ll hear it,” Alicia dismisses. To prove her point, John and June’s laughter carries across the Gulch. It’s faint but easily discernable. She falls into stride with Al this time, but Alicia jams her hands in the pockets of her hoodie. She holds onto the butterfly knife. It brings her some measure of comfort. “Why are you so worried about him?” Alicia asks. “If we was gonna do something to hurt us, he would’ve done it already. He’s in this with us.”

“I know.”

“You just don’t like him. Even though he saved your life. Even though _you_ saved his life.”

“I’m not going to let someone die just because I don’t like them,” Al snaps. “I’m not a monster.”

“I know that. I’m just – I don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to.”

“This is – we’re just gonna talk in circles, aren’t we?” Alicia sighs.

“I told you I don’t want to talk at all.”

“Well, I need you to talk to me, okay?” Alicia blurts. She grabs the sleeve of Al’s jacket and pulls her to a stop.

Al looks over at her and simply asks, “Why?”

Alicia, frankly, does not have an immediate answer to that question. “I –”

Al nods and motions for Alicia to keep walking. Alicia remembers Luci’s got a room to herself. She starts to think maybe she should ask Luci to move in. If Al won’t talk to her while they’ve got literally nothing better to do, then –

“What did you mean?” Alicia says. “You said you’ve dealt with a – a girl who’d kiss you when she’s drunk but not – what did you mean?”

“What aren’t you understanding about that?” Al asks.

“I just – there’s got to be a story there.”

“I’m not in the mood for sharing stories.”

“I wasn’t in the mood for sharing stories after Nick died, but I did it anyway,” Alicia snaps. Maybe that’s a low blow. She can see Al’s muscles tense.

“It’s not much of a story,” Al mutters. “And I’d rather not pick at old wounds. It was a long time ago.”

“How long ago?”

Al smiles sardonically. “College.”

“So, what? Twenty years ago?” Alicia jokes.

Alicia watches Al fight off a smile. “That’s not funny.”

“You’re trying not to laugh.”

“It was ten years ago.”

“I’m guessing it didn’t end well,” Alicia says.

“Of course it didn’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

Alicia has to stop herself from apologizing again. Instead, she asks, “Why does it matter to you so much? What happens between me and Wes – why does it matter?”

“I’m your friend. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“You sure that’s the only reason why?”

“No.”

Alicia’s taken aback by Al’s frank, simplistic way of answering her question. It takes Alicia a moment to recover, a moment to gather her thoughts and figure out what to say next, because Al’s not offering up any extra information without being prompted.

“So then what – what’s the problem?” Alicia stutters.

Al inhales sharply then asks, “Are you an idiot or just willfully oblivious to your surroundings?”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t know why you need me to say that I –”

Al cuts herself off and whips around. Alicia’s blood runs cold as Al immediately swaps her trench spike for the handgun at her hip. Al flicks the safety off, and Alicia rushes to yank her Glock free. Al grabs Alicia’s arm, stopping her from bolting toward the gate, then plucks the walkie off of Alicia’s belt.

“John. June,” Al says into the walkie quietly. “Join us at the gate. Stay quiet.”

“Al, what’s –?” Alicia falls silent and finally hears it. The unmistakable sound of an incoming herd. “Why are they coming this way?” Alicia whispers.

“Get me the ladder,” Al instructs. Alicia does as she’s told, dragging the ladder over to the fence. Al scales it quickly and pokes her head over the top.

“What’s going on?” John questions as he and June jog around the corner of the saloon.

“We’ve got incoming,” Al informs. She exhales. “Jesus. It’s a massive herd.” She pauses. “Anyone got binoculars?”

“Hang on,” John says. “There’s a pair in the saloon.”

As he goes to retrieve them, June joins Alicia in holding the ladder steady. “What’re you seeing, Al?” June asks.

“Besides hundreds of walkers? We’ve got someone running toward us,” Al says. “I just can’t see who it might be.”

“It’s definitely a person?” Alicia asks.

“Walkers don’t run, last I checked. And if they’ve started to run, we’re fucked,” Al replies wryly.

“We have to be ready to open the gates,” June says.

“We don’t know who this is,” Al points out. “It could be a Pioneer. June, I need you to go wake Morgan. Tell him what’s happening. Have him decide if we’re waking everyone.” As June goes to wake Morgan, John returns with the binoculars and passes them up to Al. “It’s coming right for us,” Al mutters. “I don’t know if the fence will hold – oh my God.”

“What?” Alicia and John both ask.

“It’s Dwight.”

*

“We have to get to him,” Morgan insists. “We can send a team –”

“He’s far enough ahead of the herd,” Al counters. “He’ll make it long before they do. We just have to be ready to let him in.”

“And what if it’s a trap?” Alicia questions.

“That’s Dwight out there, goddamn it,” Morgan says. “Even if it’s a trap, we’re going to help him.”

“I’m just saying we need to stay alert,” Alicia says.

“Maybe he just escaped from the fields,” Morgan says. “Found his way here.”

“Or the Pioneers sent him to infiltrate us,” Alicia hisses.

“He’s almost here,” Al informs. She climbs down from the ladder and passes the binoculars to John. “Help me with the gate.”

Together, Al and Alicia pull the gate open. Dwight skids inside, immediately collapsing to the dirt, panting. Al and Alicia secure the gate, and Alicia’s hand goes to rest against the Glock at her hip. Dwight stays down, even as John kneels beside him.

“You okay, buddy?” John asks gently. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

Dwight manages to shake his head. “I’m sorry,” he gasps, “for bringing them to you. But I couldn’t – I didn’t have another choice.”

“It’s alright,” John assures him. “We can handle this.”

Alicia and June exchange a doubtful look, but neither speaks up. The herd is larger than what they cleared when they first arrived. Alicia doesn’t know if the fence will hold, even though it’s been reinforced. She knows Morgan’s wondering the same thing. At least the Dwight problem has been solved.

“Dwight,” Morgan says, “I need you to tell us what happened out at the fields.”

“The Pioneers took over,” Dwight says. He accepts the hand John offers him and gets back to his feet. He’s drenched in sweat. The last time Alicia had seen him, he’d been clean shaven, but his beard is back, getting out of control. “They kept me around to make gas, had me show a bunch of other people how to do it, too. Once they were sure they knew what they were doing, they cut me loose. Threw me out. I’ve been trying to stay ahead of the walkers for days.”

“How did you know we were here?” Alicia demands.

Dwight’s eyes drop to his boots. “They know,” he says. “The Pioneers. They know you’re here. They were talking about it – I overheard them say something about how Morgan’s group was heading for Humbug’s Gulch.”

“Okay,” Morgan says. He rubs at his jaw then claps Dwight on the shoulder. “Let’s get you inside. You need to rest.”

“That herd isn’t stopping,” Al reminds. “What’re we going to do?”

“We can’t fight overnight,” Morgan says.

“We can’t fight at all,” Alicia argues. “We barely cleared this place the first time. There are way more out there than before.”

“We don’t have a choice.”

“We always have a choice,” Al says quietly. Her eyes go to the walkie, clipped back at Alicia’s belt. Alicia’s eyes widen.

“We can’t,” Alicia blurts.

“She’s right,” June agrees. “The Pioneers won’t help us out of the goodness of their hearts, even if we just reach out to Madison. She isn’t in charge around there.”

“Let’s all just slow down,” Morgan jumps in. “The sun will rise in a few hours. It’ll give us a chance to see if the fence will hold.”

“Even if it does, it won’t hold indefinitely,” Al says. She crosses her arms over her chest. “We’re backed into a corner here, Morgan.”

“Not yet,” he insists. “If anything, we can make a stand at the lodge if the fence comes down. Fight our way out. Then we can worry about rebuilding –”

“Rebuilding?” Al questions. “Morgan, we can barely feed ourselves. If the dead overrun this place – whether we hold the lodge or not…” She sighs and shakes her head.

“We’ll decide in the morning,” Alicia says quietly. “It should hold until sunrise.”

Morgan nods. “I’ll stay up,” he decides. “Everyone else – go get your rest. You’ll need your energy in the morning.”

*

The insistent knocking at the door can only mean one of two things: either really good news or really bad news. Ginny throws the covers back and slides into a pair of sweats. She peers through the peephole before she answers the door. Not many people get to see Ginny in her sleep clothes.

“Eric,” Ginny says, trying her best to hide the irritation she feels from seeping into her voice. “This better be good. What’s the situation?”

“You have a call from Todd at the Lanes,” Eric says breathlessly. “He’s waiting – he’s on the radio.”

She pushes past Eric without another word and rushes down to the call center. The light is already on, as is the radio, and Ginny shoos everyone else out of the building. She drops into the chair at the main desk, holds down the button on the radio, and says, “Mr. Todd Allen, do you copy? It’s Virginia.”

“Ginny,” Todd answers immediately. “We’ve got news.”

“Fill me in,” Ginny orders. Her eyes flick to the clock on the wall. It’s just after three in the morning. What the hell could have happened this late? Very rarely in recent months has she been summoned in the middle of the night. Normally someone lower in the chain of command can handle any problems that pop up before sunrise.

“Our scouts have identified an absolutely massive herd headed straight for Humbug’s Gulch,” Todd says. “We’re in the clear, for now. It seems like something – or someone – must’ve led the herd right to them.”

Ginny laughs to herself. “Oh gosh,” she says over the radio. “I wonder if that was our friend Dwight.”

“I suppose it’s possible, ma’am.”

Ginny gave the order to set Dwight free, what? Two days ago? A day and a half? And now it seems like he might’ve led the downfall of his friends’ settlement straight to them. Can things get any better? She expected Dwight to die within hours of being thrown out into the world. Maybe he’s more resourceful than she originally thought.

“Tell you what, Todd,” Ginny says. “I don’t want you to do anything unless that herd comes for the Lanes, understand?”

“I do, ma’am.”

“As soon as they set their sights on you, by all means, take care of it and make sure to let me know. But until then, you just sit tight. Carry on business as usual. Just take extra precautions if you send anyone out. And if you intercept any transmissions from our friends at the Gulch, you be sure to let me know right away.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thanks for the update, Todd. I will speak to you again after the sun rises.”

Ginny leaves the call center, chuckling to herself. She heads back to the apartments and seeks out the room at the end of the hall. She knocks on the door until she hears the deadbolt click then takes a step back. Maddie opens the door, looking like she’s still half asleep, but she perks up when her eyes land on Ginny.

“Ginny,” Maddie says warily. “Something going on? It’s three in the morning.”

Ginny smiles. “I’m aware of the time, Maddie. It’s just that something’s come up.”

“What happened?” Maddie asks. Ginny watches the panic flicker in Maddie’s eyes, watches her carefully conceal it from passing across her face. “Is it Alicia?”

“Nothing has happened yet, Maddie. But something’s about to.”

*

Alicia lies awake. She can hear the dead growling from her bed, even though the window is closed. She can hear them banging against the fence. Even though the temperature dropped outside, Alicia’s sweating. She lies atop the bedding. She already stripped off her jeans and her hoodie, folded them neatly and left them on the desk in the corner of the room. Her boots are at the foot of her bed, the butterfly knife, gun barrel, and Glock all within reach. The gun barrel’s on the bedside table with the Glock. The butterfly knife is beneath Alicia’s pillow, held in her grasp. She doubts anything will get into the room. This room is all the way at the end of the hall, away from the staircase. But Alicia is the closest to the door, so she tells herself she has to be ready.

Alicia is almost positive that Al is not asleep, either. But Al hasn’t said a single word since they got back to the room, since she climbed in bed and burrowed beneath the covers. Alicia’s dying to ask what Al was going to say before they were interrupted by the thing that’s going to drag their entire settlement to hell, but Alicia can’t find the words. She stares up at the ceiling, at the fan mounted there, and wishes this place had electricity. She doesn’t know how Al’s managing to stay under her sheets. Alicia’s soaking her sheets with her sweat.

Alicia gets up abruptly, taking the butterfly knife from under her pillow with her. She trips over her boots and curses, throwing them out of the way and heading for the bathroom. She feels around on the counter for the lighter and lights some of the candles for herself. She stares into the mirror at her haggard reflection. Her body is exhausted, but her mind won’t shut off. She plants her hands against the edge of the counter and leans forward, staring down into the sink, trying to control her breathing.

_“I don’t know why you need me to say that I –”_

That I _what_? Maybe Alicia _is_ incredibly oblivious, but willfully? She wants to know. She wants to understand. She wants to repair the damage she’s obviously done to her friendship with Al –

“What’re you doing?”

Alicia almost jumps out of her skin, instinctively flipping the butterfly knife open and pointing it toward the doorway. She relaxes when her eyes land on Al’s face. The light from the candles casts an eerie glow not just around the bathroom but also across Al’s face. Alicia forces herself to lower the knife, to close it and stick it in the waistband of her underwear. She grimaces as the cool metal presses against her side and crosses her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious about standing in front of Al in the middle of the night in just a rather low cut tank top and skimpy underwear. Al, though, isn’t wearing much more than Alicia, and she doesn’t seem to give a shit.

“I had to use the bathroom,” Alicia says weakly.

“I would’ve heard that, considering you left the door wide open. Why are you just standing here?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“No shit.”

Alicia shakes her head. “I’m not in the mood for your attitude, Al. It’s fucking hot, and I’m sweating –”

“We can open the window. Let some of the cold air in here.”

“Then I’ll really have to listen to the walkers.”

“We can hear them anyway.”

Alicia just nods. Al disappears, and a moment later, Alicia hears the window slide open. She stares at herself a moment longer in the mirror. She can’t tell if it’s the candlelight casting shadows on her face or if the bags under her eyes have just become very pronounced. They’ve been rationing food more than usual since they’ve arrived at the Gulch, and Alicia’s cheekbones stick out. Al was right after all. Alicia’s starting to look a little thinner. She touches her ribcage just to see, and she confirms that she is, in fact, shedding pounds. She regrets thinking she needed to slim down when she was back in high school.

Alicia blows the candles out and returns to the main room. Al’s back in bed, sprawled out on her back on top of her sheets. There’s a nice breeze coming in through the window, and Alicia makes her way over, even though she has to stand right next to Al’s bed to do so. She stares out at the fence, at Morgan patrolling back and forth. She stares out at the walkers. Hundreds of them.

“What were you going to say?” Alicia asks. She doesn’t turn away from the window; she figures it’s easier to keep her back to Al. “Before the herd showed up and interrupted us. You were saying – you didn’t think you had to say something. You know, after you called me oblivious –”

“I know.”

“What were you going to say?”

Alicia hears Al shifting around in the bed behind her. “It’s not important,” Al answers.

“Sure seemed like it was.”

“I was just…angry.”

“So? You were still gonna say something.”

“We’re lucky we were interrupted,” Al says. “I would’ve regretted it.”

“I don’t care. I want to hear it anyway.”

“You want me to hurt you?”

Alicia flinches. Her eyes stay locked on the herd just past their fence, surrounding their vehicles, pressing against the only barrier preventing them from overrunning the Gulch. “Go for it,” Alicia says softly.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It isn’t worth it.”

“We could be dead within the next twenty-four hours,” Alicia says. “I might never see my mother again, and if I die, she’ll be trapped with the Pioneers forever. What kind of damage do you think your words can do?”

“Words matter when they’re the truth.”

“The truth is subjective.”

“Now you sound like a philosopher.”

Alicia spins around. “Now you sound like you’re stalling,” she snarls. She stares down at Al. Al’s still on her back, propped up on her elbows, staring up at Alicia with an impassive expression on her face. “I can move out,” Alicia offers. “Luci will take me –”

“That won’t matter,” Al interrupts. “The fence won’t hold forever. We only have one real choice left unless we all want to die horrifically.”

Alicia presses her lips together. “I can’t do this,” she blurts. “I can’t talk about our imminent deaths and – and about our plans to save this place or whatever. I can’t go back to being polite and friendly with no substance beneath it. I just need us to be – us.”

Al blinks. “You don’t see it, Alicia. You don’t know –”

“And you won’t tell me!”

Al swings her legs off the end of the bed and stands, pressing into the small space between the bed and the wall. Alicia has to take a step back, and her lower back presses against the windowsill.

“There’s no reason to,” Al says softly. “Not while Wes –”

“Oh my _God_ ,” Alicia groans. She covers her face with her hands then lets them fall and curl into fists at her sides. “I am _so_ tired of talking about him with you! If I was sure I liked him, I would’ve done something about it, Al! I don’t know what you’re so fucking worried about besides him, what? Taking advantage of me? That’s great, but I can handle myself. And I’ve spent all this time trying to figure out what I feel for him while everyone’s poking fun at me, assuming I already like him and that I’m just too shy to do anything about it or whatever. Or, better yet, they crack jokes about how I’m into you, but somehow Wes gets dragged into that – I’m rambling, I know. It’s just –” Alicia swallows hard as her voice breaks. She can’t look Al in the eye, but she knows Al’s eyes haven’t left her face the entire time. “I know I should like him,” Alicia whispers. “He’s everything I could ever ask for, given the circumstances, but there’s no – I just don’t want anything more than friendship with him, and I – I guess I’ve just been lying to myself about why.”

“Alicia,” Al says quietly. She starts to reach out, but Alicia knocks her hand away.

“Don’t. Let me finish.”

“No,” Al insists. “I owe you more than one apology, I’m sure. I should’ve tried to help you –”

“You can’t help me. Not now.”

“We can talk –”

“You wouldn’t talk to me this morning!” Alicia shouts. Al grimaces as the walkers get more riled up outside. Surely Morgan heard the outburst, too. Alicia reins herself in, lowers her voice. “When there was no immediate threat of death, you didn’t want to talk. But I didn’t kiss you when I was drunk just so I could sober up and laugh about it, Al. It’s not funny. And I haven’t kissed Wes because I – I didn’t want to. I love talking to him, and painting with him, and being around him, but I’m not going to marry him and have his kids. And if you could just stop acting like that future is inevitable for me and him, maybe you would –”

“Okay,” Al cuts in. “I get it. I’ll stop.”

Alicia’s jaw clenches, and her hands tremble at her sides. The walkers keep banging on the fence outside, and Alicia turns around and slams the window shut, locks it. She yanks the curtains shut.

“I danced with him at the wedding,” Alicia says. She turns back to face Al, even though there’s only a few inches of space between them. “I stayed with him while I was drunk, because he’s my friend. I would’ve done the same with Luci or Strand. The fact that Wes likes me is not my fault, but he understands that I don’t have to like him back.”

“I thought we weren’t going to talk about him anymore.”

“You’re such a smartass.”

A smile flickers on Al’s face. “Occasionally.”

“I don’t like him, but I feel like I should.”

“I know.”

“And sometimes, I want – I want to like him. I think it’d be easier if I did.”

“I know.”

Alicia scoffs. “Yeah? What do you know?”

“I know it’d be easier for you if you liked him. It’s what you’re used to.”

“What I’m used to – but I _loved_ Jake. That was real.”

“I know,” Al says gently.

“Stop saying you know!”

Al nods and grasps onto Alicia’s shoulders. “It’s going to be alright,” she says. She lies, straight through her teeth, to Alicia’s face. “You’ll sort out your shit with Wes. We’ll figure out the next steps for this settlement. You’ll get your mom back. Everything will fall into place.”

“You’re a fucking liar,” Alicia whispers. “You’re lying. We’re all going to die here, Al. And if we don’t die here, we’ll die with the Pioneers.”

Al’s lips press together, and though she doesn’t nod or say anything, through the darkness, Alicia can see it in her eyes. “Sometimes it’s better to tell someone what they want to hear instead of the truth.”

“I don’t want lies. I want the truth. So what’s the truth, Al?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is that the best you can do?” Alicia asks. Her voice is starting to get shrill. She’s starting to sound panicked. Desperate, even. “You don’t know if we’re going to live past tomorrow? You don’t know if I’m going to see my mom, let alone free her? What do you know?”

“I know we have three hours until the sun rises,” Al says. “Three hours before shit gets real.” Al lets her hands fall from Alicia’s shoulders, and her back straightens. “What do you want to do with them?” Al asks. “I know our options are limited, but –”

Alicia clamps her hand over Al’s mouth and shushes her. “Stop talking,” Alicia orders. She pulls her hand away. “We’re going to die,” she says. “If we accept that now, it won’t be a surprise when it happens. The worst thing that can happen will probably happen after the sun rises.”

“Yeah,” Al says. “Okay.”

“There’s only one thing I want to do.”

“Name it.”

Alicia hesitates. “You told me not to do it again.”

Al’s eye twitches, but she doesn’t hesitate. “Do it.”

Alicia pushes both of her hands into Al’s hair and pulls her down at the same time that Al’s hands land at her waist. They’re most likely going to be dead before sundown tomorrow. It’s not like they’ve got much to lose. Alicia makes a small noise of surprise in the back of her throat when Al lifts her, and Alicia locks her legs around Al’s waist, grunting as her back hits the wall behind her. She tightens her hold on Al’s hair, feels Al’s fingers digging into her thigh, vaguely wonders what Al’s workout routine is if she can easily support Alicia’s weight.

Or maybe she’s lost more weight than she thought. Not important. Al’s lips leave Alicia’s and press to her jaw, to Alicia’s throat, before Alicia manages to breathe out, “You know, there are two perfectly good beds right behind us.”

Alicia’s breath hitches in her throat as Al’s teeth nip at her shoulder. Alicia tightens her legs around Al’s waist. “Is that what you want?” Al murmurs next to Alicia’s ear.

“Yeah.”

Al nods and effortlessly supports Alicia’s weight on the few steps over to the bed. Alicia’s back hits the mattress, but she refuses to unlock her legs. She refocuses on getting Al to kiss her again. Al obliges for a few moments, pulling away to warn, “I don’t know how thin these walls are. You know, if you don’t want rumors going around. Just in case we don’t die.”

Alicia nods impatiently, makes a mental note to stay quiet. She pulls Al back down, thinks maybe she’d be more than happy just to kiss her for the next three hours before dawn breaks. Then Alicia remembers she’ll probably be dead soon, so why should she settle? She releases Al’s hair and grabs a fistful of Al’s tank top instead, pulling until Al reaches back and yanks it off herself.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” Al breathes, smirking. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

“We really don’t,” Alicia replies breathlessly. She grabs her own tank top, starts working it up her body, as difficult as that is with Al pressing against her. She gets it free and flings it to the floor. “We’ve got a couple hours. Make it worth my while.”

*

Alicia jolts awake, mentally curses herself for drifting off in the first place. It’s still dark, so she figures the sun hasn’t risen yet. “How long was I out?” she mumbles.

Al chuckles, traces her fingertip along the scar across Alicia’s palm. “Calm down, sweetheart,” Al says. “You slept for five minutes, max.”

“Felt like five hours,” Alicia says. She struggles not to let her eyes close again. It’s hard. For the first time in a long time, she feels secure, which is funny given that she hasn’t bothered to put any of her clothes back on. One of Al’s arms is loosely draped around Alicia’s back, her hand resting on Alicia’s waist. Alicia keeps her ear pressed to Al’s chest, listens to the strong thudding of her heart. Alicia breathes deeply and finally shakes her hand free of Al’s grasp, laying her palm flat on Al’s hip. “Don’t do that,” Alicia says. “It tickles.”

She smiles as laughter rumbles in Al’s throat. “What would you like me to do instead, then?”

“I’d say we can go again, but I’m too tired.”

“Even if we’re going to die?”

Shit. Alicia forgot about that. Al seems to realize that was the wrong thing to say based on the way she inhales sharply, but Alicia says, “Maybe we should do our best not to die, then. There’s still plenty to live for.”

Al hums. She moves her arm out of the way as Alicia rolls onto her back. Alicia groans, stretching in the limited space allowed to her by the mattress. She can feel Al’s eyes on her, but Alicia lost all sense of shame when it comes to nudity a long time ago. Alicia exhales contentedly and turns her head to look over at Al. A smile flickers on Al’s face, but she doesn’t say anything.

“What?” Alicia prompts.

“Nothing.”

“You’ve got to be thinking about something.”

Al’s smile widens. “Hmm.”

“Tell me.”

“Kiss me.”

Alicia smiles and rolls onto her side, gently placing her hand on Al’s cheek, curling her fingers behind Al’s ear. Alicia can still taste herself on Al’s lips, and that alone makes her reconsider her previous comment about being too tired. A five minute nap is more than enough sleep for an entire night. Al seems to know exactly what Alicia’s thinking and catches Alicia’s hand in midair without breaking their lips apart. Alicia groans in protest as Al stops her from reaching her intended target and links their fingers together instead.

Alicia pulls back just enough to complain, “Al, that’s gay.”

Alicia grins as Al busts out laughing and replies, “Alicia, everything we’ve been doing for the past couple hours has been pretty gay.”

Alicia gives a half shrug and frees her hand from Al’s, resting it on Al’s stomach instead. “From a certain point of view, maybe.” They laugh again, but when it dies down, Al’s expression turns serious. “What’s wrong?” Alicia asks, tapping her fingers against Al’s hipbone. Al’s eyes shift over past Alicia, toward the window blocked by the curtains. Even so, they’re not blackout curtains by any means, and it’s becoming obvious that the sun’s going to fully rise any minute.

“We’ll have to get up soon,” Al says.

“I know.” Alicia inhales deeply, drags her fingertips from Al’s stomach up to the center of her chest, then back down again. “I wish we could stay.”

“We’ve got a little more time.”

“Not enough.”

Al nods and rubs at her eyes with her index finger and thumb, exhaling. “The fence held overnight,” Al says. “We can try to –”

Alicia reaches up and presses her fingers to Al’s lips, and Al falls silent. “I don’t want to talk about strategy,” Alicia mumbles.

“What do you want to walk about?”

Alicia inhales deeply. Her hand slips from Al’s face, lands at her shoulder. “Nothing,” Alicia decides. “Just hold me until we have to face reality.”

Al nods and lifts her arms. Alicia throws a leg around both of Al’s, presses her face into Al’s neck, and squeezes her eyes shut. Al’s arms lock around Alicia securely. Alicia grasps onto Al’s shoulder, trying to stop her hand from shaking.

“You okay?” Al asks.

“Yeah,” Alicia whispers. “I just – I’m not ready to die.”

“Me either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	17. we shouldn't worry yet

It’s strangely quiet as Alicia and Al get into their clothes. They can no longer ignore the sunlight poking through the curtains, can’t ignore the doors opening and closing down the hall, can’t ignore the boots clunking on the floor past their room. The convoy is getting up, preparing to face the day’s problems. Alicia detaches herself from Al and sits on the edge of the bed, leaning over to grab her underwear. She pulls it on absently, her back to Al, as she stares at the curtain separating their room from a clear view of the outside world.

“You sure you’re okay?” Al asks. Alicia feels the mattress shift as Al gets up behind her, and Alicia manages to nod. “You’re kind of freaking me out.”

“I’m fine,” Alicia mutters. She stands and adjusts her underwear, bends down to grab her tank top. No point in wearing a bra to go die, right? She pulls it over her head and straightens it out, clearing her throat.

“It’s gonna be weird now, isn’t it?” Al questions.

“No,” Alicia says.

She turns to face Al, who’s just getting her underwear on, as Al asks, “Even if we don’t die tonight?”

“So we fucked,” Alicia says bluntly. She gathers her hair in her hands and ties it back, shrugging. “We don’t have to make it weird.”

Al nods, a wary expression on her face. “Just don’t get all weirded out on me.”

Alicia smirks. “Guess our friendship is back to normal, huh?”

Al scoffs. “If that’s what you want to call it. Most friends don’t sleep together because they’re concerned about dying before the day’s over.”

“So we aren’t most friends,” Alicia says. She grabs a pair of jeans and slides into them. They go on too easily, and she wonders when that happened. Probably around the same time they started severely rationing. She buttons her jeans and grabs her belt from her bag. Al’s eyes haven’t left her, and Alicia shamelessly stares back even though Al’s taking her sweet old time getting a shirt on. “What?” Alicia asks.

“Nothing.”

Alicia rolls her eyes. “Al, I came on your face literally an hour ago. You’d think we’d be able to just say shit now.”

Al smirks but says, “It’s not that simple, Alicia.”

“Sure it is.” Alicia grabs a jacket she hasn’t worn in a while and stares at it for a few moments too long. She can feel Al’s eyes on her back as she straightens up and slides her arms into the green and black checkered jacket she’d worn while hunting down the Vultures. It feels appropriate for today. It fits a little bigger than she remembers. When Alicia’s eyes return to Al, Al is finally putting more clothes on. Pants. A tank top. Al puts on her typical navy button down and fixes the collar.

“What?” Al says as Alicia stares at her.

Alicia suddenly has to swallow down the urge to get emotional and manages to sound nonchalant when she says, “Nothing. I’ve just always liked that shirt on you.”

Al cracks a smile. “You’re so full of shit, Alicia.”

Alicia laughs, because it’s easier than crying. “Just take the compliment.”

“Fine.”

Alicia steps past Al to gather her weapons. She slips the butterfly knife into her pocket, hooks the gun barrel on her belt, and holsters the Glock at her side. She swallows hard as the weight of the gun bears down on her hip. She might actually have to use it today. If not to kill walkers, then to –

Alicia pulls the Glock free, aware that Al’s watching her every move, and pops the magazine free. She pulls out one bullet and stares at it for a long moment. Her mouth goes dry as she tucks the bullet safely into her pocket with the butterfly knife.

“What’re you doing?” Al asks quietly.

“I don’t want to accidentally run out,” Alicia replies. She holsters the Glock at her side again and turns to face Al. Alicia struggles again to hold herself together but manages a faint smile. “You know. Just in case. I like to have a backup plan.”

The color leaves Al’s face, which is funny, because she’s already typically pretty pale. “You don’t have to –”

“I can’t control much,” Alicia cuts in. “But this – I can control this. I can control how I die.”

“Okay,” Al concedes.

“I always hope it won’t be necessary,” Alicia says. “It hasn’t been necessary yet. But I like to have just one set aside.”

“I get it.”

Alicia nods. “I should, um – they’ll need our help.”

“Alicia.”

Alicia takes the few steps to close the distance between them and flings her arms around Al’s neck, holding tightly. Al stiffens in surprise but relaxes soon after, getting her arms around Alicia’s back.

“We need a fucking miracle if we’re going to live past today,” Alicia says next to Al’s ear. “So let’s go make a fucking miracle happen, okay?”

Al nods. She locks Alicia in the embrace when Alicia starts to pull back, just long enough to say, “Don’t do anything stupid, sweetheart.”

Al lets Alicia step back, and Alicia smiles, a hint of arrogance shining through. “Oh, you know me,” Alicia quips. “Stupid is my middle name.”

*

Al’s the last person to join everyone at the gates. She’s got her rifle over her shoulder, a scowl on her face. “So what’s the plan?” Al asks Morgan.

“We were waiting for you to explain it,” Morgan replies. “Nice of you to finally join us.”

Al shrugs. “Long night.”

“Apparently,” Morgan says. “So. We all know there are too many walkers out there for us to take on like we did when we first arrived. The fence won’t hold forever. It’s already showing some signs of wearing down in places. Our best bet is to pick them off from over the fence.”

“Pick them off?” Strand questions. “And how do you suppose we’re going to do that? The fence is too high to be able to reach them with a knife.”

“Bullets,” Morgan says.

Strand snorts. “We’ll run out of bullets long before we even make a dent in this herd.”

“Do you have any better ideas that you’d like to share with us, Victor?” Morgan says sardonically. “The floor is yours.”

Strand grunts but has no plan to offer. Frankly, neither does Alicia. No one else pipes up with any ideas. This is the best they’ve got. Their last shot. Shoot as many of the walkers down and then…hope for the best?

“So what do we do when we run out?” Al asks. Alicia glances over her shoulder at Al. She’s standing between Luci and Charlie, holding onto the strap of her rifle, eyes set on Morgan.

“We’ll have to decide that together,” Morgan says. “But we’re completely surrounded. There’s no way in or out, and if we open the gate, the walkers will all force their way in.”

“I’m not making my last stand here,” Strand mutters so only Alicia can hear it. “I don’t give enough of a shit about this place to die for it.”

“I don’t think we can abandon it if we want to,” Alicia points out. “If we’re surrounded…we have no other options.”

“Sure we do,” Strand says. He pats the walkie at his belt. “Madison’s waiting for us on channel five.”

“Then they win,” Alicia says. “And all of this was for nothing.”

“I warned you. Hell, _you_ warned Morgan.” Strand shakes his head. “We should’ve fucking left Texas when we had the chance.”

“Well, it’s too late now,” Alicia bursts, drawing the attention of the rest of the convoy to their conversation. “So we’re either going to lay down and die, or we’re going to give it our all and go down fighting.”

“I’d rather not go down at all,” Strand says. He pauses, scanning the faces of the people around him. “I say we call the Pioneers,” he announces. “They’ll get us right out of this mess.”

“And then we’ll create an entirely new mess for ourselves,” Morgan says. “Involving the Pioneers isn’t a good idea.”

“Neither is wasting all our ammo firing into a herd of walkers we can’t fend off,” Strand retorts. “But if that’s what you need to do to see our only _real_ choice here is calling the Pioneers for assistance, be my guest.” He makes a show of pulling his gun free of his belt and removing one bullet. He even holds it up for the whole convoy to see. “I suggest you all do the same,” he says, pointedly shoving the bullet into his pocket. “Just in case this doesn’t go well.” Alicia can’t meet Strand’s gaze when he looks her way. “I promised Madison I’d protect you,” he says. “And I don’t intend on breaking that promise, but –”

“I already have one,” Alicia interrupts. “It’s in my pocket.”

“You’re a smart kid.”

Alicia smiles wryly. “I _was_ headed for Berkeley, after all.”

Strand grins but it slides when he asks, “Are you on board with this plan?”

“At least we can say we tried,” Alicia mutters, “before we throw ourselves to the mercy of the Pioneers. Besides, I’m sure they have plenty of bullets.”

Strand laughs heartily and claps Alicia on the shoulder. She conceals her smile, feeling the eyes of everyone else in the convoy on them.

“We might as well get started,” Morgan announces. “We’ve got two ladders set up. Take your shots carefully. We’ll see what we’re dealing with when we’ve run out of bullets.”

*

Wes and Sarah empty their guns into the heads of the walkers on the other side of the fence, but the noise just seems to rile the rest of them up more. The banging on the fence intensifies, as does the growling and snapping. Alicia hangs back, hand resting on the Glock at her hip. She stands with Al and Luci now that all the kids have been ushered back into the lodge by Daniel. He’s even trusting Charlie to look after Skidmark.

No one says what they’re all thinking. This isn’t going to work. Wes climbs down the ladder, exhaling heavily, empty pistol in his hand. He turns and throws it against the side of the church with a grunt, shaking his head as John steps up to take his place. Sarah hops down from the ladder and chucks her shotgun to the ground.

“Mo-Mo, don’t tell me we’re out of alcohol yet,” Sarah calls. “I don’t want to be sober when the Pioneers roll up.”

Morgan sighs. “We’re out,” he says. “The wedding cleared out the stash.”

“Well, fuck,” Sarah exclaims. “It really is the end of the world.”

Wes goes to stand with Alicia, Al, and Luci as they await their turn. Alicia feels like she should say something encouraging, assure them that they’re all going to be alright if they have to rely on the Pioneers to get them out of this, but the words stick in her throat. They don’t feel sincere, and she knows Al will call her out for lying. Better to stay silent.

“This isn’t working,” Strand announces. He grabs Dwight by the shoulder to stop him from scaling the ladder. “We’re just wasting ammo. We know what has to be done, so let’s just do it.”

“I can’t make this decision by myself,” Morgan admits. He slumps against his staff and says wearily, “All in favor of calling the Pioneers, raise your hands.”

Strand’s hand goes up first. It takes a moment, but other hands start going into the air. Wes. Sarah and Wendell. Alicia doesn’t let herself think about it. She puts her hand up, even as Al startles next to her.

“What’re you doing?” Al hisses.

“Saving us,” Alicia replies shortly. A moment after that, Luci puts her hand up, too. Another few moments pass, and Al reluctantly raises hers, shaking her head. Notably, neither Tom nor Janis put their hands in the air.

“I’m so sorry,” Morgan tells them. He reaches for the walkie at his belt and raises it to his mouth, hesitating. “Ginny, do you copy?”

The silence drags, even though it only amounts to maybe ten seconds before Ginny’s cheerful voice says, “Why yes, I’m here. May I ask who I’m speaking to?”

“It’s Morgan. Morgan Jones.”

“Ah, yes. Morgan. It’s so nice to _finally_ speak to you,” Ginny exclaims. “What can I do for you today, Morgan?”

Morgan’s eyes scan over the people of the convoy again before he says, “We could use a bit of help.”

*

Ginny makes sure to take her hand off the button of the radio before she laughs. “Oh, it’s finally time,” she says to Eric and Dr. Ramsey. “Start getting everything loaded up,” she orders. “Dr. Ramsey, I need you in case there are any casualties. Get going, please.” Eric and Dr. Ramsey take off, and Ginny returns her attention to the radio. “We will be right out there, Morgan, I assure you. We will get you out of this…sticky situation. Just hang tight.”

She gives Morgan a moment to respond, and when she gets the expected silence from him, she flips channels. “Mr. Todd Allen, can you hear me?”

“I hear you,” Todd replies. “How can I help?”

“I need you to assemble a team,” Ginny informs. “I’m getting mine together. I’ll meet you at the Lanes, and we’ll depart from there.”

“Understood, ma’am.”

“Thank you very much.”

Ginny signs off, stands, and straightens out her jacket. She already had to bring down one settlement at Humbug’s Gulch, but thankfully, this time, she’s going to save one. And it’s going to improve her settlement tenfold. There’s just one thing she has to take care of first.

“Maddie!”

Maddie turns back, adjusting her hat, and she raises her eyebrows as Ginny approaches. “What can I do for you, ma’am?” Maddie asks coolly, hooking her thumbs through her belt loops.

“We got a call for assistance,” Ginny informs. “I’m putting together a team to go handle it. I need you to stay here and act in my place. Think you can handle that?”

Maddie’s back straightens. “Of course I can, ma’am.”

Ginny claps her on the shoulder. “Great. Knew you could. Call if anything goes wrong, but I assume nothing will go wrong under your command.”

Maddie nods and tips her hat in Ginny’s direction. “Be careful out there,” Maddie warns.

“Oh, I always am. Don’t you worry. We’ll be back before you know it.”

*

Alicia sits on the porch of the lodge, smashed between Al and Luci. There’s really nothing else for them to do except wait. Ginny confirmed that they’re on their way, should be here hopefully before sundown. No guarantees, though. Alicia stands abruptly, startling both Luci and Al, then mutters, “I’m heading up. There’s no reason to just sit here all day.”

“Alicia,” Luci calls, twisting around to watch her disappear into the lodge.

“I’ll go,” Al offers.

“Make sure she’s okay.”

Al nods. The door to room 201 is ajar, and Al slips inside cautiously. She shuts the door behind her, and Alicia steps out of the bathroom.

“Lock it,” Alicia instructs. Al flips the lock without arguing.

“Luci sent me to see if you’re okay,” Al says.

“I’m fine.” Alicia exhales heavily and pulls her hair free of its ponytail. “And I’ll be fine, I’m sure,” she adds. “Considering my mom is there. But the rest of you…” Alicia shakes her head. “If anything happens to anyone, I don’t know if I can live with it.”

“Strand is right,” Al says gently. “This is our only option now. At least we stand a chance at seeing the sun rise again.”

The troubled look on Alicia’s face doesn’t go away. She steps around Al back into the room and peers out the window. Everyone’s still just waiting, gathered in clusters, talking quietly.

“You don’t have to stay here with me,” Alicia says.

“I want to.”

Alicia nods and pulls the holstered Glock off her belt. She slaps it down onto the desk and adds the gun barrel, too. She can feel Al watching her, surely wondering what the fuck she’s doing.

“You remember how I said we didn’t have enough time left this morning?” Alicia questions.

“Yeah.”

“Well, we’ve got time now. Before the Pioneers roll in here.”

Al’s eyebrows raise. “Are you –?”

Alicia unbuckles her belt, undoes the button of her jeans. Al stops trying to ask stupid questions and meets Alicia halfway. She kisses Alicia insistently until a thought occurs to her that forces her to pull back.

“Someone might come looking for us,” Al breathes.

“Let them,” Alicia growls. She makes quick work of the buttons of Al’s shirt, but Al stops her from taking it off and pushes Alicia back against the wall, pinning her hands above her head. Alicia moans unabashedly as Al’s teeth scrape against her neck, and Al shushes her.

“Gotta be quiet, remember?” Al whispers against Alicia’s skin.

“I know I said we have time, but I need you to hurry up,” Alicia says. Al’s hand pushes into Alicia’s pants, and Alicia quickly brings their lips back together to stifle another moan. “Harder,” Alicia barely manages to say, and Al has to clamp her hand down on Alicia’s mouth to keep her quiet.

Alicia doesn’t remember getting in Al’s bed or falling asleep, but she wakes up in Al’s bed with Al’s arm locked around her, Al’s fist held against her chest. Alicia inhales sharply and lifts her head.

“Shit,” Alicia says. “What time is it?”

Behind her, Al stirs. “Hmm?”

“Al! How long did we sleep for?”

Al sits up quickly, taking her arm back from around Alicia. She checks the time. “Three hours went by,” she informs. “It’s four.” She stumbles to her feet and pulls the curtain back, squinting against the onslaught of sunlight. Nothing is amiss. Everyone’s still waiting. No Pioneers. No change. “We’re good,” Al mumbles. “Nothing happened.”

She returns to bed behind Alicia, slips her arm around her again. Alicia sighs and leans back into Al. “If they need us, someone will come up here,” Alicia says.

“Right,” Al says against the back of Alicia’s neck. She slides her hand down Alicia’s side, coming to an abrupt stop at Alicia’s pocket. “What –”

“It’s just my knife,” Alicia dismisses as Al’s fingers dip into her pocket. They press against the metal of the butterfly knife, against the bullet. “Get your hand out of my pocket.”

Al chuckles but does as she’s told, pressing her palm flat against Alicia’s thigh. Alicia smiles to herself, glad Al can’t see her. “Do you really have to keep that bullet on you?” Al asks.

“Yes.”

“It’s no help to you if you don’t have a gun.”

“The gun’s on the desk. If you want me to get it –”

“No. I want you not to take that bullet out of your pocket.”

Alicia hums. “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.”

Alicia’s halfway back to sleep when the knock on their bedroom door startles her back into full consciousness. “Alicia?” Luci calls. “Al? You still in there?”

Alicia groans and gets up. Al rolls into the space she leaves behind and goes back to sleep. “Fuck you,” Alicia calls over her shoulder. Al holds out her arm and gives Alicia a thumbs up. Alicia gets the door, leans against the doorframe, and manages a weary smile for Luci. “What’s going on?” she asks. “Don’t tell me they’re here.”

“No, not yet,” Luci assures her. “Can I –?” Luci motions past Alicia, and Alicia instinctively looks over her shoulder.

“What – oh, yeah, but Al’s asleep.”

Luci nods and steps into the room. Alicia shuts the door quietly. “Are you okay?” Luci asks.

Alicia balks. “I – yeah. I’m okay. Why?”

“Just making sure,” Luci says. She points at Alicia’s bed. “Can I –?”

“Of course.”

Luci sits on the edge of Alicia’s bed, and Alicia joins her. Luci reaches over and grasps onto Alicia’s hand, and Alicia squeezes back. “People are talking,” Luci says.

Alicia’s heart drops into her stomach. She swallows hard. “What’re they talking about?” she asks. Her eyes flick over to Al. Al’s lying on her stomach, one hand shoved under her pillow, her other arm hanging off the end of the bed. She looks like she’s asleep, but Alicia’s almost positive she isn’t. She’s eavesdropping, though not really by choice.

“Accepting help from the Pioneers,” Luci says. “What they’re going to do to us. Tom and Janis – they’re spilling as much as they can now. They don’t think they’re going to survive another encounter with the Pioneers.”

“I’ll talk to Ginny when she gets here,” Alicia says. “Ginny already knows me and Al –”

“From when you broke into Paradise Ridge. Yes. I remember.”

“We’ll work things out with them,” Alicia says. “We shouldn’t worry yet.”

“Janis said they split everyone up,” Luci says. Her eyes shift over to Al. “Maybe you’ll end up with some of the people you know, but…they do things their way.”

“We can talk to my mom,” Alicia says. “There’s nothing to worry about yet. Tom and Janis – we don’t know what they did when they were with the Pioneers.”

Luci presses her lips together. “You’re right. But Alicia – we can’t trust these people.”

“I know.”

Before Luci can say anything else, a gunshot echoes around the park, and both Alicia and Luci startle. Al’s eyes pop open, and she kicks the sheets back and scrambles to her feet. “What the fuck was that?” Al says groggily.

Alicia jumps up, pulling Luci with her. “A gunshot,” Alicia says.

“Hey! Over here!” Wes shouts. His voice is faint but discernable through the closed window. “Hurry!” Wes yells.

“What’s going on out there?” Al mutters. She yanks the curtain aside. Her eyes widen. “There’s a section of the fence coming down,” Al says. If she was sleepy before, she’s awake now.

“Shit!” Alicia exclaims. She rushes to grab the Glock and gun barrel. “Come on!”

They run out of the lodge, joining Wes and John at the section of the fence that’s threatening to give in. Wes and John are struggling to hold it up, and John takes a step back to shoot down another walker.

“What’re we going to do?” Wes shouts. “We can’t let it go! They’ll all get in!”

“We might have to let it go,” Morgan says. “Take cover in the lodge –”

“Alicia!” Wes yells. “There are some planks of wood and nails stacked in the theater. Can you bring them here?”

“Yeah. Just hang on,” Alicia calls. She grabs Al and Luci and pulls them toward the theater with her. They find the wood and nails and haul it all back out to Wes and John. “You think you can repair it?” Alicia questions.

“I think we might be able to get it to hold a little while longer,” Wes says. “Buy ourselves some time.”

“Here,” Alicia says. “I’ll take your place while you fix it.”

“Thanks,” Wes says. They swap spots, and Alicia puts all her weight against the fence, holding off fuck knows how many walkers alongside John.

All of her muscles strain, and it isn’t long before she calls, “Al! Get in here!”

Al pushes her way in as Alicia’s feet start to slide in the dirt under the weight of the fence. “Hold on,” Al grunts. She shoves her full weight against the fence, and Alicia regains her footing. Wes gets to work on trying to reinforce the boards that’re breaking open. “Why are we the only ones doing this?” Al grumbles.

“Everyone else is giving up,” John answers. “The Pioneers are on their way. They think it’s over.”

“It’s not over,” Al says.

“No,” Alicia agrees. “It’s just beginning.”

*

The fence busts open at the worst time. It’s the middle of dinner. Alicia crams a forkful of canned green beans into her mouth when Charlie screams. Alicia nearly chokes.

“The fence!” Charlie yells.

“Shit,” Alicia hisses once she’s swallowed her mouthful. She jumps up with almost everyone else and grabs ahold of Daniel. “Get the kids back to the lodge,” she tells him. “Let’s go!” Alicia shouts. “We’ve got incoming!”

Charlie’s still standing too close to the busted fence. Alicia sprints over, skidding to a stop in the dirt, and grabs Charlie by the shoulders. Charlie startles, looking back at Alicia.

“What’re you doing?” Alicia demands. “Get to the lodge!”

“I –” Charlie falters, and Alicia shoves Charlie behind her to save her from the nearest walker. Alicia just manages to get the sharp end of the gun barrel up through its mouth before it can grab ahold of her.

“Charlie, go!” Alicia shouts.

“I’ve got her!” Al calls. Al grabs Charlie by the arm and forces her to run to the lodge. Al passes Charlie off to Daniel, who keeps getting stuck on kid duty for whatever reason, then runs back to join Alicia again.

“There are too many,” Alicia says. She swings the gun barrel like a bat at an oncoming walker. “We need to get back.”

Al hesitates then snatches the walkie off of Alicia’s belt. Before Alicia can protest, Al says, “Madison, do you copy?”

There’s a long pause in which Alicia keeps killing walkers. Not far behind her, John starts firing shots. Alicia’s about to tell Al that she should probably do the same when there’s a response on the walkie.

“I’m afraid Maddie’s a little busy right now,” Ginny says. “But I’m here if you need something.”

“Yeah, we need something,” Al snaps. “We need you to get here fast. The fucking fence is coming down around us.”

“I just need you all to hang tight for a few more minutes,” Ginny replies. “I promise you, we are on our way.”

“They need to hurry up,” Alicia says. It’s hard to look away from the walkers forcing their way through the breach in the fence, but everyone around her is retreating. They can’t go past the lodge, though. They can’t let it get overrun. Not with all the kids inside.

Al hooks the walkie back on Alicia’s belt and says, “They’re coming. We just have to stand our ground for a few minutes.”

Alicia wouldn’t put it past the Pioneers to lie to them, but she doesn’t raise this possibility. She expects Ginny to show up with the cavalry any minute now. The bullet starts to weigh heavier in her pocket, though, but Alicia refuses to pull the Glock and fire any shots. Not while she can keep killing walkers with her gun barrel. Her eyes flick back to the fence, and she struggles to swallow down the panic rising in her throat.

There are too many.

To Alicia’s left, Al finally raises the rifle and starts carefully picking off walkers. John’s gun stops firing, and Alicia hears him curse as he takes cover behind Strand and tries to reload. Closer to the lodge, walkers are converging on June. She’s struggling to keep up, only armed with a knife. Alicia doesn’t have eyes on Luci or Wes, Sarah or Wendell, Morgan or Dwight.

There’s a shotgun blast somewhere off to the right, and Sarah hollers, “Yeehaw! Get ‘em, Wenny!”

“We need to retreat to the lodge!” Morgan shouts from behind Alicia. She can’t look. She’s too occupied with trying to hold off the dead. For every one she kills, two more take its place, and she’s struggling to keep them at bay even with Al and Strand covering her.

“June!” John screams. He aims his revolver, but even he can’t reliably take the shot. Not without risking hitting June. He starts running, even though it leaves Strand partially exposed on one side. Al turns and prepares to take the first shot, but when she pulls the trigger, the rifle clicks.

“Fuck!” Al hisses.

“I’ve got you,” Alicia tells her. “Reload. Hurry!”

“Alicia, June –”

“She can hold them off,” Alicia says weakly. “She has to –”

There’s another scream, but it’s not from June. It’s from a man. Maybe John. Hopefully not John, Alicia thinks. It’s bad enough she shot him before. He can’t die now. Not after just getting married.

“They’re surrounding us,” Al points out. She gets the rifle reloaded and turns back to where June’s at in front of the lodge, but John and Dwight, of all people, have beaten back the dead from around her. “We need to get out of here,” Al insists.

“Where’s Luci?” Alicia blurts.

“Behind you,” Luci says breathlessly.

Alicia’s next sentence is cut off by the sound of multiple guns firing all at once, and all around them, walkers start to drop. Alicia kills the one directly in front of her and throws it to the ground as the sound of hooves and engines join the mixture of gunfire. The rest of the fence finally comes down, slamming to the dirt, as the cavalry arrives. Alicia’s jaw hangs open, and she lowers the gun barrel to her side. The Pioneers really brought firepower. Alicia watches Pioneers dismount their horses and hunt down the last remaining walkers with anything from shotguns to handguns to semi-automatic assault rifles. And they all look like professionals, even if they also look like cowboys.

The first vehicle to drive over the fence and come to a stop amidst the carnage is a black Hummer. The Hummer’s engine stops, and its only occupant hops out from behind the wheel. She looks exactly like Alicia remembers. Out of the corner of her eye, Alicia sees Al stiffen and adjust her hold on her rifle. But Ginny isn’t interested in them yet. She walks away from Humbug’s Gulch, back toward where her people are still arriving.

“I want every last one of these things killed!” Ginny shouts. The Pioneers who have remained on their horses nod in acknowledgement. “I’ve got to handle our new friends.”

“Wait, ma’am,” one of the Pioneers says. He rushes to dismount his horse and starts running toward Ginny, but Alicia sees it first. She doesn’t know what she’s thinking. Well, she must not be thinking, because Alicia starts running toward Ginny, too. Ginny turns back, sees it herself, and reaches for her hip at the same time that Alicia reaches for hers. “No!” the unknown Pioneer shouts. As Alicia pulls the Glock free and aims it toward the walker targeting Ginny, the other Pioneer aims his rifle at Alicia.

“No!” Ginny screams. She can’t kill the walker and stop the man under her command at the same time. Well, not really. By the time Alicia realizes what’s happening, the Pioneer takes his shot, and Alicia’s left leg immediately buckles beneath her. Her ears ring, eyes widen, as she hits the dirt on her knees. Pain shoots through her entire leg, and Alicia doesn’t know if she’s screaming or not. She manages to roll herself onto her back and tries to assess the damage. Blood soaks through her jeans at the side of her thigh, and she forgets all the first aid training she’s ever had. Instead, she looks at the Glock in her hand.

“You fucking idiot!” Ginny roars. She grabs the Pioneer that shot Alicia by the front of his jacket and throws him directly into the walker that’d been coming for her – that Alicia had intended to save her from. This is what she gets for trying to help the leader of the Pioneers, apparently. At least the bullet must’ve missed her femoral artery. It’s bleeding, but not the way it would if her femoral was compromised. The Pioneer screams as the walker gets its teeth in him, and Ginny simply walks away. She’s headed for Alicia, but someone slides down next to her.

“Hey,” Al says softly. Alicia groans as Al presses both of her hands down on the gunshot wound in her leg. “Hey, it’s okay.” Alicia wants to say Al’s face says otherwise, but she can’t bring herself to speak. She’s barely keeping herself conscious as it is. She can’t argue when Al yanks the Glock out of her hand. “Look at me,” Al instructs. Alicia forces her eyes to seek out Al’s face. Her vision is getting awfully blurry. “You’re okay,” Al insists. She applies even more pressure to the wound. “You’re gonna be fine.”

Alicia hums in acknowledgement, has to fight off the urge to close her eyes. Al looks away from Alicia, just for a second, as Ginny finally reaches them.

“I am awfully sorry about this,” Ginny says. She even sounds…sincere? “Just know Eric has paid the price for his mistake.”

“What does that do for us right now?” Al snarls. “She’s going to die if we don’t –”

“I assure you, I will not let Maddie Clark’s daughter die,” Ginny cuts in. She scratches the back of her neck. “Though this does mess up my original plan, just a bit.”

“Fuck your plan!” Al shouts. “What are we going to do?”

Alicia distantly hears more footsteps hitting the ground near her, feels someone grab onto her hand, but she doesn’t know who. Her eyes are locked onto Al’s face. Al’s staring up at Ginny, not bothering to hide any emotion that passes across her face, and Al mostly looks angry. Angry and…afraid.

“Can you get her to that van of yours?” Ginny asks calmly.

“Yes,” Al says.

“Get her in the van, and I will send my best doctor to you,” Ginny says.

“Can you carry her?” a voice that distinctly sounds like Luci asks. The grip on Alicia’s hand tightens, and Alicia wishes she could make herself say something. Tell them it’s okay, not to worry too much. The pain is clouding her brain.

“I think so,” Al says.

“I’ll take your place,” Luci says. “Just get her off the ground and I – I’ll hold pressure.”

Al nods. Her eyes return to Alicia’s face briefly, and Alicia can’t help but to think that even though Al is openly afraid, she’s still incredibly pretty. Alicia may not be able to form words, but she’s almost positive she screams as Al lifts her off the ground, as Luci presses her hands back to the gunshot wound.

“You’re gonna have to get the doors for me,” Al grunts to someone Alicia can’t currently see. Her head drops against Al’s chest, and Alicia has no intentions of moving it. She’s not even sure she can move it. She’s conscious, but it’s like she has very minimal control over her body. Maybe she should just focus on not dying, then. “Keep an eye out for that doctor!” Al commands. The van’s doors swing open. Al’s muscles strain under Alicia’s weight, but she manages to get her inside. Al lowers Alicia to the seats and rushes to get the first aid kit.

“Guys, I think the doctor’s here,” another familiar voice says. This one is harder for Alicia to place. It isn’t Strand. Not John. Her mind gives up, but it’s definitely a man. “She’s right behind me.”

“Who’re you?” Al demands.

“Dr. Hayley Ramsey,” the woman answers. To Alicia’s ears, the woman’s voice is smooth, soothing. “Ginny sent me to help Madison’s daughter.”

“Yeah, you better help her,” Al snaps. “Because if you let her die, I will personally rip –”

“Al!” Luci interrupts. “That’s not helping.”

“So you’re Al,” the doctor – Ramsey – says. “Ginny told me to send you to her as soon as possible."

“I’m not leaving her,” Al argues.

“I’ll stay,” Luci assures her. “Go on. We don’t want more trouble, Al.”

Al’s hands, coated in Alicia’s blood, curl into fists at her sides, but she gives a curt nod and shoves her way past Ramsey. Alicia hears Al leave, wishes she could call for Al to come back. At least Luci is here. At least if she dies, she’ll have Luci. Someone shines a bright light into both of Alicia’s eyes, mutters something about pupillary response, and all Alicia can think about is how this new woman standing over her is startlingly pretty for a doctor.

“Hey, Alicia,” Luci whispers. “I’m right here, okay? I’ve got you.”

Alicia manages the slightest of nods before she loses consciousness completely.

*

“You wanted to see me?”

Ginny spins around, plastering a smile on her face as Al approaches her. Her eyes drop to Al’s hands, slick with fresh blood. Alicia Clark’s blood. This is not good. Maddie is going to _freak_ when she finds out.

“Yes I did,” Ginny says. “Thanks for coming, Al. I know how hard it must be to leave your girlfriend’s side in a time like this, but I need to talk to you about a few important things.”

Al balks at the word _girlfriend_ , but she doesn’t say anything. Just glares at Ginny. Before Ginny can continue, poor Eric off to her right starts to reanimate. That stupid bastard. Couldn’t keep himself in check. Ginny swiftly pulls the revolver from her hip and puts a bullet through his skull, watching the blood splatter across the dirt behind him before he falls back, motionless. She holsters the revolver and looks back to Al.

“He should’ve never pulled that trigger,” Ginny says. “I saw what your girlfriend was trying to do. Trying to save me. She’s an honorable person, just like Maddie.”

“Surely you didn’t summon me to talk about Alicia,” Al says flatly.

“No. But like I said earlier, this does mess up my plan a bit,” Ginny says. “See, Alicia was supposed to go to Paradise Ridge to be with her mother, but Paradise Ridge is much too far for her now, at least in this condition. I’m sending her with Dr. Ramsey off to Imperial Lanes, just a few miles up the road.”

“And what does that have to do with me?”

Ginny smiles widely. “Why, I’ve intended to send you there from the beginning, Al. I think the kind of work you do is incredibly important, and the Lanes are a perfect fit. You’ll be working closely with the settlement leader, Todd Allen.”

“And Alicia?”

“I’m going to do everything I can to ensure she makes a full recovery,” Ginny assures her. “And now she’ll have you, too, so I guess in a way, that bullet was actually a blessing.”

Al’s jaw clenches, but Ginny just continues smiling. “And everyone else?” Al questions.

“Oh, I’ve divided them up as I see fit,” Ginny dismisses. “Don’t you worry about your friends. They’ll be perfectly fine. There is just one problem.”

“What?”

“Our friend from the fields. Dwight.”

“What about him?” Al asks. “Don’t tell me you’re –”

Ginny holds her hand up, and she’s pleasantly surprised when Al falls silent. “He was bitten,” Ginny says. “Said he went to save someone by the name of June? Took a set of teeth in the process. Looks like he jammed his arm right into the thing’s mouth.”

Al stares unblinkingly at Ginny. “So what’re you going to do?” she asks quietly.

“Well, Al, you and I both know there’s only one thing to do in a situation like this.”

“Why are you telling me?” Al questions.

Ginny’s smile turns malicious. “Your leader’s been shot, Al,” Ginny says. “And you’re the next best person here to fill that opening. For now.”

“Our leader – you mean Alicia? Our leader is Morgan.”

“You let me worry about Morgan,” Ginny says. “Now, I’ve just got a couple more things to handle, alright? I’m real sorry about Dwight. You should regroup with Dr. Ramsey and sit with your girl. I consider Maddie to be one of my closest friends, and I know you and I both don’t want to see anything happen to her last child.”

Al’s eye twitches, but she nods. “So that’s all?”

“That’s all,” Ginny confirms. “I’ll check back in with you all later, don’t you worry.”

Al rushes back off to the van, just like Ginny expects her to. Ginny adjusts her hat and crosses over to the Gulch’s church, where the rest of the survivors have been rounded up. The two armed guards posted outside the door stand at attention as Ginny approaches, but she waves them off. This isn’t the goddamn military. Ginny steps into the church and takes inventory of the people in it. There’s a whole lot of children. They outnumber the adults easily. There’s an older man sitting with a cat in his lap beside a girl that’s maybe twelve or thirteen, gently stroking the cat’s head.

So mostly she’s dealing with children. She sets her eyes on the two people she knows are John and June Dorie, just married, if rumors are to be believed. They’re holding hands, but June’s also got her other hand in Dwight’s. Dwight, a face Ginny has become quite familiar with, cradles his arm against his chest. It’s still bleeding steadily, as those wounds do, and beads of blood roll up his arm, stain his shirt.

Ginny grabs her walkie and says, “Mr. Todd Allen, I’m gonna need you to join me in the church, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What’re you going to do with us?” June demands.

“Now, let’s all just stay calm.”

Ginny’s eyes turn to the corner of the room where a man that’s maybe her height is standing, holding a staff. She smiles. “Ah, you must be Morgan,” Ginny says. “Morgan Jones.”

“That’s correct.”

“I thought I recognized that voice from over the walkie. So you’re…in charge around here?” she questions.

“I’d say so.”

Ginny nods. “Good. That’s good to know. If you’ll just hang tight, I’m waiting for one of my colleagues –” She cuts herself off as Todd steps into the church. “Everyone, this here is Todd. He’s in charge of the day-to-day operations over at the Lanes. That’s the settlement that’s just a couple miles from here.”

Todd’s an imposing figure. He claims he used to work in construction, but Ginny secretly wonders if the man was a bodybuilder. He’s at least 6’6” and always has a full beard. He keeps his head shaved, though it’s normally covered by his hat. And he dresses quite a bit like that John Dorie fellow.

“Todd, I’m afraid none of the fine people in this room will be going to you,” Ginny says. “But I do require your assistance with our friend Dwight.”

“No!” June bursts. She jumps to her feet, resisting John’s attempt to keep her seated. “You can’t take him!”

“I’m afraid there’s just nothing we can do for him now,” Ginny says. “Todd, please.”

“It’s okay,” Dwight says to June. “If you find Sherry – please, just tell her I love her.”

John has to lock his arms around June’s waist to stop her from attempting to fight 6’6” possible former bodybuilder Todd. Dwight goes without resistance, and Todd leads him out of the church, just out of sight from the doorway. Though Ginny doubts these kids haven’t seen worse.

“It’s okay, Todd,” Ginny says, laying her hand on his arm as he goes to draw his weapon. “I’ll take care of this.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Todd steps aside, and Ginny pulls her revolver and aims it at the back of Dwight’s head. “You know, I’m real sorry things had to work out this way, Dwight,” Ginny says. She gives him a moment, but he stays silent. Okay then. Ginny cocks the hammer. The shot startles a nearby flock of birds. June’s sobs carry out of the church, but Ginny easily ignores it. She stares out at the setting sun and sighs contentedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	18. give me your gun

Ramsey is too young, too hot to be a doctor. Al refuses to believe it. For fuck’s sake, Ramsey is _maybe_ Al’s age, probably even younger. Ramsey’s nails are painted a deep shade of green. And her eyes are green. Greener than Alicia’s or even Isabelle’s. And she doesn’t dress like a doctor, either. Her sleeveless shirt exposes unblemished brown skin, toned muscles. And her jeans fit perfectly – okay, that’s more than enough.

“What are you credentials?” Al demands, snapping her eyes back over to Alicia’s face.

Ramsey barks a laugh. She isn’t for one second distracted from working on Alicia’s leg. Luci’s been moved out of Ramsey’s way, sitting up near Alicia’s head. Luci gently strokes Alicia’s hair now that her hands are clean. “I was in the middle of my orthopedic surgery residency when shit went down,” Ramsey informs. “And I’ve been training under Dr. Lukas for the past year.”

“Who the fuck is Dr. Lukas?” Al questions.

“Al, maybe we should just let her work,” Luci says quietly.

Ramsey is still unbothered by Al’s hovering and her insistent questions. “He’s the head doctor over at Westfield Med Center.”

“And what are his credentials?”

“He’s a surgeon,” Ramsey assures Al. “He’s more than qualified –”

“What kind of surgeon?”

“Al,” Luci says in exasperation. “Please. If she didn’t know what she was doing, I think she would say so.”

“Thank you,” Ramsey says.

“But you better not fuck up her leg,” Luci snaps. “Or kill her. Otherwise, I will encourage Al to personally rip your throat out.”

“Noted,” Ramsey mutters.

“Now come sit with me,” Luci insists, waving Al over.

“Why? What’s the matter? What’s she doing –?”

“She’s fine,” Luci cuts in. “It’s just – I think I’m finally going to cry now.”

“Oh,” Al says. “Okay.” She sits in the aisle beside Luci and lifts her arm. Luci falls into Al, and Al pats her shoulder awkwardly, eyes set on Alicia. She’s still unconscious, thanks to the anesthesia Ramsey happened to have with her. As if the Pioneers were anticipating something bad happening, maybe. Alicia looks a little paler than usual, but Ramsey said they’d worry about a transfusion – if necessary – once they reach Imperial Lanes. But they haven’t even left the Gulch yet.

“Can you please just give us some kind of an update?” Wes asks. He’s seated across from them, and he hasn’t spoken a word until now. In fact, he hasn’t lifted his head out of his hands since he first sat down when Ramsey started working.

“She’s going to live,” Ramsey says. “I’ve said it multiple times, but maybe you’re all in shock and aren’t absorbing the meaning behind my words. She’ll recover, but only if you all stop pestering me and let me work.”

“She better live,” Al says. “This is Madison Clark’s daughter. If she dies, Madison and I will be competing over who gets to kill you.”

Ramsey snorts. “Yeah, well, good luck with that.”

*

“Get rid of the body, please,” Ginny tells Todd. “We don’t need all his friends gawking at it as they come out of that church.”

Todd nods and drags Dwight’s body off. Ginny doesn’t particularly care where it ends up. She turns and heads back into the church. She’s still got some things to take care of. Everyone looks up as she enters, and Ginny reaches into her back pocket and pulls out her list.

“This will be a whole lot easier if you all just comply,” Ginny says.

“Wait,” a man interrupts. Ginny waits, eyebrows raised. She knows his face. It takes her a moment, but his name comes to her mind. Victor Strand.

“Yes?” Ginny prompts.

“What about Alicia?” Strand asks. “One of your men shot her.”

“Eric did shoot her,” Ginny says. A low murmur goes through the crowd, but she holds up her hand and they fall silent. Gosh, she loves when it works like that. “And Eric is dead now,” she adds. “He should’ve never gone after her like that. She was just trying to help me, after all.” This seems to confuse the group, but Ginny doesn’t really care. She unfolds her piece of paper and clears her throat. “Anyway, I –”

“But will she be okay?” Strands questions.

“I’ve got one of my best doctors on it,” Ginny assures him. “I have no interest in letting Maddie’s daughter die on my watch when she should’ve never been shot at in the first place. Now, Strand, is it?”

Strand stares at her warily. “Yes.”

Ginny’s eyes scan down her list. “Ah, Strand, Victor. I’ve got you lined up to go to our Shoreline Motel. You’ll be working under Mr. Dominic Washington.”

“What’re you talking about?” Strand asks. “Where’s Madison?”

“Maddie's holding down the fort at Paradise Ridge,” Ginny says. “But believe me, she made these decisions with me. We’re making sure you folks all go to the appropriate place. For example, June…Dorie, I presume? You’ll be headed to Westfield Med Center. We always need more hands there.” The room erupts, and Ginny just sighs. She waits for Morgan to calm his people down. It takes him a minute, but they finally settle. “I know it’ll be an adjustment,” Ginny says, “but I have faith that you will all fit in just fine with us. You have proven yourselves to be incredibly resourceful and resilient.”

“We’re all gonna be okay,” Morgan says. His voice echoes around the church. “We just – we have to go along with their plan, okay? We’ll be fine.”

“Thank you, Morgan,” Ginny says. “Now, if I could have a word with you outside?”

*

“That should do it.”

“Great,” Al growls. “Now get your hands off of her.”

Ramsey complies, lifting her blood smeared hands from Alicia’s leg. She smiles wryly at Al. “She’s alive,” Ramsey informs. “And I don’t think the blood loss was too bad. I’ll have to monitor her at the Lanes, of course, but as long as we stay on top of preventing an infection, she’ll be good as new.”

“Thank you,” Luci whispers. She’s pulled herself together, gone back to stroking Alicia’s hair. Alicia breathes steadily, and Ramsey already said her pulse is strong. Ramsey wipes the blood from her hands and sanitizes them. Al hates looking at this woman. She looks like the type of person who plays a doctor on TV. But she might’ve just saved Alicia’s life.

“I’ll meet you there,” Ramsey says. “I’ll get her moved into the infirmary. Ginny should be sending someone over to drive you soon.”

“Ramsey,” Al calls before the doctor can duck out of the back of the van. Ramsey turns back and raises her eyebrows. Grudgingly, Al says, “Thank you.”

Ramsey smiles, nods. “It’s what I do,” she says. “Besides, I’ve seen a lot worse than this. She’s lucky.” Ramsey pauses, her eyes shifting over to Alicia. “The anesthesia should wear off soon,” she says. “Possibly before we reach the Lanes. She’ll be in pain. Just try to keep her calm. There’s morphine at the Lanes –”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Luci says. She looks between Alicia and Al, gnawing on her lower lip. “Her brother was an addict.”

Ramsey nods. “Alright then. Maybe some ibuprofen, but it won’t do much for her. Just be prepared.” She pats the walkie on her belt and adds, “Call me on channel five if anything goes wrong.”

*

“Shoreline, right over here!”

“Westfield, this way!”

“Paradise Ridge, by this truck!”

Ginny watches the convoy get divided up, as per her plans. Some go quieter than others. Strand slinks over to the group headed for the Shoreline Motel without a word, carrying the crate with the cat in it. Nearly all the kids are getting shipped to Shoreline, since it’s got the most space, all except for young Charlie. She’s set to go to Westfield to study under Dr. Lukas with June Dorie.

But John and June Dorie don’t go quietly, and neither do siblings Sarah and Wendell. Daniel loudly protests being split up from his cat. Frankly, Ginny’s being generous by keeping the cat around at all, but she keeps this thought to herself.

“I will find you,” John Dorie promises. He holds onto June’s hand as long as he can, until she’s pulled over to the vehicles heading back for Shoreline. “I’ll find you!” John yells.

“Head out!” Ginny calls. The loaded vehicles start pulling away, driving off in different directions. The ones scheduled for Paradise Ridge leave last, followed by the horses. The last remaining vehicle is Ginny’s, parked exactly where it’s been since she first arrived, with the SWAT van still off in the distance. She watches everyone leave then walks back to the church where Morgan’s waiting on the step.

“You wanted to speak with me?” Morgan asks. He’s still got his staff in his hands, using it to keep himself up. He’s got a limp, Ginny noticed. Probably from some kind of an old injury.

“I sure did,” Ginny says. “Thanks for sticking around.”

“What can I do for you?” Morgan asks. His tone is polite, but his expression is sour.

“You know, I don’t know you too well, Morgan,” Ginny says. “I met Al and Alicia long before I met you, considering you and I just met a couple hours ago. I’ve had a hard time thinking of you as the leader of this group when we’ve never actually had a conversation.”

She smiles, but Morgan just blinks. “Well, I’m sorry about that,” he says evenly. “Surely you know how busy day-to-day life is when you’ve got a bunch of people to manage.”

“Of course,” she agrees. “Though I’ve got quite a few more people to manage than you do, Morgan. That’s why there’s a chain of command, see? So I only have to deal with the big things.”

“We’re not quite as…established as you.”

“Clearly,” Ginny says. She glances over her shoulder, sees the rest of her people – save for Dr. Ramsey – have indeed cleared out. “Well, Morgan, I’ve finally gotten what I wanted.”

“And what’s that?”

“The skills your people can offer my settlement,” Ginny says matter-of-factly. “I’m building something big, and I need all the help I can get to make it happen. Like I always say, I’m gonna get us from yesterday to tomorrow. And I’m afraid you, Morgan, are stuck in the past.”

She draws her revolver, cocks the hammer, and at the same time that Morgan swings with his staff, she pulls the trigger. The staff clips Ginny in the jaw, knocks her off her feet. She lands hard in the dirt, the revolver skittering away from her. Morgan lands hard on his back, staff clattering to the ground beside him. Ginny’s face stings, but she tests out her jaw and determines it isn’t broken. She’ll just have a real nasty welt for a while. While she stumbles to her feet, she hears Morgan choking. Ginny staggers over to where her revolver fell and scoops it up. Her head’s spinning a little from the blow, but she shakes off the dizziness and walks back over to Morgan, standing over him.

Blood rapidly spreads across the front of his shirt. She thinks she at least hit him in the lung. Might explain the choking sounds he’s making.

“You’re more trouble than you’re worth, Morgan,” she whispers. She pulls the hammer back once more, enjoys the small click. She aims it at his head and pulls the trigger, but the gun just clicks. “Motherfucking –”

“Everything okay over here?”

Ginny closes her eyes. Of all the worst times –

“Give me your gun.”

Ginny holds her hand out behind her and waits for Dr. Ramsey to respond. After a moment, Ginny hears Dr. Ramsey stop walking a few yards away. “What?” Dr. Ramsey says faintly.

“Your gun,” Ginny says, louder this time. She wiggles her fingers. “Hand it over.” Ginny hears Dr. Ramsey pull her sidearm free of its holster, and after a few moments, the gun is placed in Ginny’s outstretched hand. “Thank you,” Ginny says softly. Dr. Ramsey doesn’t carry a revolver. Never has. Just like she usually doesn’t wear the customary Pioneers hat or jacket. She has the key patch on her, sure, but it’s normally pinned to her shirt. Dr. Ramsey’s gun is unfamiliar in Ginny’s hand. Ginny identifies it as a SIG-Sauer. P228, she thinks.

But it doesn’t matter what it is. It’ll do the job. She flicks the safety off and aims it at Morgan’s head. He can’t defend himself this time. His staff is out of his reach. His shirt is soaked with his blood, and it’s bubbling between his lips. Ginny has killed plenty of defenseless people before, and for much smaller offenses, too. Morgan stares up at her, looks her in the eye, defiant until the end.

“Ginny, what’re you –?” Dr. Ramsey doesn’t finish her sentence, and she nearly jumps out of her skin when the second gunshot rings out. Morgan falls back, eyes wide open, and he doesn’t move again. “What did you do?” Dr. Ramsey murmurs. Ginny glances back. Dr. Ramsey’s got her hands clasped over her mouth. Her hands tremble – her whole body’s shaking. Poor girl usually doesn’t deal with this sort of thing. Ginny forgot – Dr. Ramsey saves lives; it’s up to Ginny to take them.

“I settled a debt,” Ginny says. She puts the safety back on and holds the SIG-Sauer out. “You can have this back.”

After a long moment in silence, Dr. Ramsey takes the pistol and slides it back into the holster at her hip. “What’re you going to do with the body?” Dr. Ramsey asks.

“I’m gonna drag it into the pile,” Ginny answers.

“Do you need help?”

Ginny finally turns around to face Dr. Ramsey, keeping her expression neutral. But Dr. Ramsey looks like she’s on the verge of tears, or maybe she looks vaguely sick. Maybe both. “Not with this,” Ginny says. “I need you to go back to that van, drive our new people to the Lanes. Coordinate with Todd when you get there, but I’ll be dropping in once I’ve got this mess cleaned up.”

Dr. Ramsey nods. She hesitates, though, staring at Ginny through the waning sunlight. “Your face –”

“It’ll be fine,” Ginny dismisses. “You can look at it later. Go. Please.”

Dr. Ramsey nods, takes two steps backward then turns and runs off. Ginny jams her empty revolver into her holster, sniffing. She grabs Morgan by the ankles and drags the body off with the rest of the walkers. She drops the body with the others, pauses to look at the bodies of Eric, that idiot, and Dwight. Now Dwight, she almost feels bad for. He stayed behind to free his friends, taught them everything they needed to know at the fields. She would’ve welcomed him back if he hadn’t fed himself to the dead so June Dorie could live.

Seems like a good trade off, though. They always need medical personnel. Ginny stares at the pile of bodies, mostly walkers among three more recently dead humans, then mutters, “Good riddance.” She strikes a match and throws it onto the pile. It lights easily, and Ginny steps back, pausing a moment to watch Humbug’s Gulch burn to the ground along with all the bodies. Ginny heads for the Hummer, climbs up behind the wheel, and pulls the hat from her head. She drops it onto the passenger’s seat and grabs her walkie. “Dr. Ramsey, I’m gonna need you to follow after me, please.”

*

The first shot startles Al awake, and she lifts her head off the edge of the seat. She inhales sharply, sits herself up straight, and immediately looks to Alicia. She must still be unconscious, because she looks peaceful. The bandage wound around her thigh is clean, not soaking through with blood. Ramsey did an okay job. Go figure.

“What the hell was that?” Wes asks. Luci wakes up behind Al, grasps onto her shoulder as she lifts her head from against Alicia’s shoulder.

“I don’t know,” Al says groggily. “What was it?”

“It sounded like a fucking gunshot,” Wes says, jumping to his feet.

“Hold up,” Al says, holding her hand out. “Don’t go anywhere. Last thing we need is to piss the Pioneers off.”

“Who knows what that could’ve –?”

“Exactly,” Al says. She points at the other set of seats. “So please. Sit down. Let’s just wait it out. It wasn’t near us. Might’ve just been a stray walker. It’s the Pioneers’ problem.”

Wes reluctantly drops back down onto the seats and lets the subject drop. “How is she?” he asks, motioning toward Alicia.

“Still out,” Al answers gruffly. “I think we’ll know when she wakes up.”

“That doctor’s been gone a long time,” Wes grumbles.

“Al is right,” Luci pipes up. “We should just keep our heads down. Dr. Ramsey will be back eventually. And we’ll be out of here.”

“And what about everyone else?” Wes questions. “Where are they going?”

“I don’t know,” Luci confesses.

“So we’re just gonna sit here?” Wes asks.

“Yes,” Al insists.

“Why?”

Al stares at him for a long while then points at Alicia. “That’s why,” she says. “Because that dumb fuck out there shot Alicia. So we’re going to sit here, and we’re going to play nice, and that doctor that looks like a fucking model is going to make sure she lives, otherwise Madison’s gonna have my ass.”

“Is that the only reason why, Al?” Wes presses. “Because you’re afraid of Madison?”

“Alicia is _our_ friend,” Luci interjects. “She’s my friend, she’s Al’s friend, she’s _your_ friend. None of us like this situation, Wes, but we are doing this to help Alicia. We can make a plan to escape after Alicia recovers. Just – can we just stop?”

“We’re all unhappy, okay?” Al tells Wes. “No one likes this. I sure as hell don’t like it. But this isn’t about you or me anymore. This is about making sure Alicia lives and making sure she can walk.”

“I know,” Wes says. He rubs at his eyes, exhaling heavily. “This wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

“There’s nothing we can do,” Luci says quietly. “Except try to help Alicia.”

“She’s lucky,” Wes says. He leans back against the van, staring off into space. “She’s lucky to have friends like you.”

“And like you,” Luci says. “I think you showed her she can still have something to live for with those paintings.”

Wes huffs. “Yeah, those paintings aren’t helping us now, are they?”

They all blurt out their curse word of choice when the second gunshot rings out. Luci grasps onto Al’s arm, and Al instinctively moves to shield Alicia, but there’s no imminent danger. This gunshot is just as far away as the first one.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t check that out?” Luci says quietly.

“Yeah,” Wes says. “What do you think that was? Two stray walkers?”

“Could’ve been,” Al says. “The Pioneers sure seem to like their guns.”

“She has a point,” Luci says. “They all carry them, don’t they?”

“From what I’ve seen, yes,” Al answers. “So let’s just – let’s stay calm. We’re all fine.”

“And what about John?” Wes questions. “June? Strand? How can we know that they’re all fine, too?”

“We can’t,” Al says simply. “But Ginny made it sound like her plan was to send us off to different settlements. Incorporate us into their society. Rebuild the world.”

“It’s some fucking bullshit,” Wes snorts. Before Al or Luci can reply, the driver’s side door swings open, startling them all. Ramsey hauls herself up behind the wheel, slams the door shut.

“Dr. Ramsey!” Luci exclaims. “What –?”

“Just be quiet a minute. Please,” Ramsey says breathlessly. She pulls the walkie from her belt and cranks the volume. She looks sort of disheveled. There’s a sheen of sweat coating her skin, and she can’t seem to catch her breath. She flips her hair back out of her eyes then presses both hands over face.

“You alright?” Al asks warily.

Ramsey shushes her and attempts to breathe normally. Al looks to Wes, feels Luci’s fingers digging into her shoulder and arm. Wes stares right back at Al. His face mirrors the confusion she feels.

_What the fuck is going on?_ he mouths, motioning toward the front of the van. In response, Al just shrugs. She plants her hand against the seat in the limited space beside Alicia’s torso and gets to her feet. Her legs are unsteady, but Al straightens out her back, exhaling as her joints pop. She moves toward the front of the van slowly, carefully. Her handgun’s still holstered to her hip, alongside Alicia’s Glock. The Pioneers didn’t bother to disarm her. Or Luci. Or Wes. And Ramsey is visibly armed, too.

“Um, hey,” Al says softly, poking her head up into the front. Ramsey now leans against the steering wheel, hands still covering her face. “Ramsey. Did something happen out there?”

Ramsey lifts her head abruptly, startling Al, and she grasps onto the steering wheel, inhaling shakily. “No,” she says. “No, it’s – everything’s fine. I just –”

The walkie forces her to fall silent. Ginny says, “Dr. Ramsey, I’m gonna need you to follow after me, please.”

“You should strap yourselves in,” Ramsey says quietly. She pulls her seatbelt on, swipes at her cheeks quickly, and clears her throat. “We’re heading out. Should be a short ride. Is she still out?”

“She hasn’t woken up,” Al confirms. She looks over her shoulder. “Luci –”

“I’ll stay,” Luci says. “Sit up front.”

Al nods and drops into the passenger’s seat, puts her own seatbelt on. Al swallows hard, glances back to see Luci lift Alicia’s head, sit, and cradle Alicia’s head in her lap.

“You know how to drive one of these things?” Al asks.

“I can drive it,” Ramsey says.

“Okay,” Al concedes. “So what were you, then? Orthopedic surgery resident by day, MRAP driver by night?”

The joke falls flat. Al exhales and sets her gaze out the window. She watches the Hummer pull away from the Gulch. Her jaw falls open.

“What –?”

Ramsey’s eyes are on the Gulch, too, even though she should be watching the road. It’s burning.

“What the fuck?” Wes says.

“Someone probably tried to burn the bodies,” Ramsey murmurs. “Must’ve caught a nearby building.”

“The whole place will burn,” Al says.

Ramsey clucks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “It sure will.”

*

“Maddie, do you copy?” Ginny drives with one hand on the wheel, the other holding the walkie up to her mouth. She gives Maddie a few moments to respond. The silence irritates her more than it usually does. “Maddie? It’s Ginny. Do you copy?”

“I copy,” Maddie finally says. “Are you on your way back?”

“Not quite. I’m making a detour to the Lanes.”

“Are you staying overnight?”

Ginny hesitates, shifts her jaw to the side as she thinks. “Probably,” she answers. “Unless you need me to come back to run things at Paradise Ridge.”

“I can handle it,” Maddie assures her.

“I knew you could.”

“Are you okay?” Maddie asks. “You sound…off.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ginny says. She makes the sharp left turn and glances in the rearview mirror to make sure Dr. Ramsey follows her. Of course, she does. Ginny rubs at her face. It doesn’t sting anymore. It’s more of an ache now.

“There were no complications?”

Ginny exhales heavily. “Yeah, about that, Maddie…there was a bit of a situation.”

“What kind of a situation?”

“You know, maybe we should talk in the morning. I’ll fill you in.”

“Sure, but before you go, what time do you think Alicia will arrive here?”

Shit. She forgot she’d made that promise. “The vehicles heading for Paradise Ridge are probably another hour out,” Ginny informs. “But Maddie – I’ve diverted Alicia to Imperial Lanes.”

There’s a long pause before Maddie speaks again. So long, Ginny wonders if she’s walked away from the radio. “What do you _mean_ you diverted her?” Maddie demands.

“I mean, I wasn’t given a choice,” Ginny replies. She flips her blinker on, just in case Dr. Ramsey doesn’t know where she’s going, then makes the next turn before she says, “That fuckwit Eric shot her.”

“He _what_?” Maddie nearly yells. Ginny holds the walkie a little farther away from her, grimacing.

“In the leg,” Ginny continues. “Don’t worry, Dr. Ramsey patched it right up, and she’s going to watch over Alicia at the Lanes. I thought sending her to Paradise Ridge would be too risky.”

“Yeah, you’re damn right. I’m coming out there.”

“You can’t,” Ginny snaps. “You have to lead Paradise Ridge while I’m out here. I will make sure she is taken care of, Maddie. And she’s got her girl and two of her friends with her. Alicia will be perfectly fine.”

“And Eric? Don’t tell me he got a slap on the wrist?”

Ginny chuckles. “Oh, no. The dead got ahold of him. I might’ve had something to do with that. He’s very dead, I promise.”

“Good.”

“He got a little trigger happy,” Ginny says. “He’s never followed orders well.”

“I know. You take care of my daughter.”

“She’ll be more than taken care of, I can guarantee you that.”

“You make sure Todd knows,” Maddie says.

“I will tell Todd.”

“If anything happens to Alicia –”

“I will personally make sure nothing happens to her, Maddie,” Ginny says firmly. “You have my word.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll update you in the morning,” Ginny promises. “But Dr. Ramsey will stay with Alicia overnight. She’s got her girl and two of her friends. She’s in good hands, I assure you that.”

“Thank you,” Maddie says again. “So tell me, what do I do with the people who arrive here?”

“Book ‘em,” Ginny says. “Get them settled in. You know which rooms are open. They’ll get jobs in the morning. Oh, except – I want you to take Tom and Janis to my room. And post a guard outside the door.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’ll call in the morning,” Ginny says. She signs off and drops the walkie onto the passenger’s seat with her hat. She takes one last turn, and Imperial Lanes comes into view. The name is misleading, really. The settlement isn’t just the former bowling alley. It’s the entire plaza. They knocked out the walls that they could, installed doors to connect the buildings, renovated the entire place. Well, there’s always more to be done, but they’ve got crops planted in the field in the back behind the additions they built on for housing. The entire lot is fenced in. Todd’s done great work on this place since they first started.

Ginny drives up to the gate and waits. After a moment, a flashlight shines on her vehicle, shines through the windshield. The guard pulls the gate open, and Ginny sticks her hand out the window in a wave and drives through. The SWAT van follows behind her, parks off with the other vehicles even though Ginny parks the Hummer in front of the entrance. She grabs her hat, puts it back on her head, takes the walkie, and gets out of the Hummer.

“Ma’am,” Todd greets. “We’re just settling in for the night.”

“Great,” Ginny says. “I’ve got Dr. Ramsey in that van with Alicia Clark.”

“Clark?”

“Maddie’s daughter,” Ginny says. “Yes. I need you to get Dr. Bolton and get a gurney out here. If she dies on your watch, I will throw you to Maddie and she will deal with you, are we clear?”

Todd shifts uncomfortably, hands clasped over his belt buckle. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll summon Dr. Bolton, right away.”

“Thank you, Todd.”

He rushes off, and Ginny jogs over to the van as the back doors swing open. And all she sees is chaos.

*

“Quiet her down!” Ramsey yells.

“She’s in pain! What do you want me to do?” Al shouts back.

“We’re almost there! Just – try to calm her down.”

“Hey, Alicia,” Luci says quietly. She holds onto Alicia’s shoulder with one hand, strokes her other hand over Alicia’s hair. “We’re almost there, okay?”

Alicia doesn’t stop screaming. Why should she? Her leg feels like it’s on fire.

“Watch her leg,” Ramsey warns. “If she busts it open – just, don’t let that happen. If it bleeds through, we’ve got trouble.”

“Got it,” Al says. She’s nearly knocked off her feet by the sharp turn Ramsey makes. “Can you watch your driving, please?” Al calls.

“Can you get her to quiet down, please?” Ramsey replies.

“What the fuck is going on?” Alicia yells. She tries to sit up, and Al immediately forces her back down.

“Don’t move,” Al orders. “You’re going to hurt yourself even more.”

“Was I fucking shot?”

“Yes,” Al says.

“Where are we?”

“In the van,” Al answers.

“Where are we _going_?”

Al hesitates. “Imperial Lanes. Alicia, please, you have to calm down.”

“Calm _down_? How am I supposed to calm down?” Alicia demands. “I was _shot_.”

“And you’re okay, relatively,” Al says. “Jesus fucking Christ, Ramsey! Watch your turns!”

“Ginny’s driving leaves something to be desired, okay?”

Al exhales and drops down to the ground next to the seats and offers up her hand. Alicia, to Al’s surprise, takes it and holds on tightly. Alicia’s eyes water from the pain, but she doesn’t look away from Al’s face.

“I’m okay?” Alicia whispers. “Is that why I’m wearing no pants?”

Al cracks a smile. “That’s because you were shot. But hey, you need to stop moving. Don’t hurt yourself more, okay?”

Alicia manages a nod against Luci’s leg. “Okay.”

“Ramsey will look at you again when we get there.”

“Who the fuck is Ramsey?” Alicia whispers.

“The doctor, apparently. I don’t know. She looks like a fucking model, though, but she did alright with you.”

Alicia rolls her eyes but moans, “Jesus, it fucking hurts.”

“I know. You’re trying to break my hand.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Al assures her. “I was hoping you’d stay unconscious until we got there.”

“That would’ve been nice,” Alicia agrees. Her eyes flick past Al’s face, across the aisle to where Wes looks absolutely miserable. “Is this it?” she asks. “Just the four of us?”

“And Ramsey,” Al says weakly.

“Where’s everyone else?”

“We don’t know,” Luci jumps in. “Ginny divided us up.”

“We’re gonna be okay,” Al says. She squeezes Alicia’s hand back, brings her other hand up to Alicia’s face, brushes her knuckles against Alicia’s cheek even though Luci’s watching them. Even though she’s probably crossing a line. All that action seems to do is get Alicia’s tears to spill over, silently, and Al wipes them away with her fingertips. “And you’ll be just fine, okay? Ramsey’s gonna make sure of it. Isn’t that right, Ramsey?”

“You don’t have to call me, Ramsey, you know,” Ramsey says, sounding disgruntled. “You can call me Hayley. But yes, Alicia, you’ll be just fine.”

“Forget about me,” Alicia hisses. “What about everyone else?”

“They’re fine,” Al says. “Isn’t that right, Ramsey?”

Ramsey sighs. “They’re fine. Ginny relocated them to our other settlements. We’re inbound for the Lanes. Just sit tight.”

They hit a massive pothole right as they’re pulling onto the street where the Lanes is. It jostles everyone around, even Ramsey, and she’s strapped in. Alicia nearly rolls off the seats, saved only by Al, though Alicia does roll right onto her injured leg. And that starts the screaming again. Al hauls her back up, and Luci locks her arm around Alicia’s torso, holds her in place.

“What happened?” Ramsey shouts over Alicia.

“That fucking pothole happened!” Al yells. “She rolled onto her leg.”

“Is she bleeding?”

“I – yes! Hurry the fuck up, will you?”

“Just hold on!” Ramsey shouts. The van screeches to a stop inside the gates. Ramsey kills the engine, pocketing Al’s keys, and she rushes into the back. “I need you to move,” she tells Al. Al reluctantly slides out of the way, forced to release Alicia’s hand. “Keep holding onto her,” Ramsey says to Luci. Ramsey’s hands go to Alicia’s leg as she tries to assess the damage in the dim light of the van.

Wes gets up and goes for the back doors, throwing them open. “We’re gonna need more –” he starts, but he cuts himself off when his eyes land on Ginny. “Help,” he finishes flatly.

“What happened?” Ginny asks. Her voice is eerily calm. Wes can’t take his eyes off that massive welt on the side of her face.

“Pothole,” Wes says weakly. “Alicia – she’s bleeding again.”

“Dr. Bolton’s on his way,” Ginny calls to Ramsey. “They’ll have a gurney. You’ll just have to transfer her onto it.”

“We’ll get her to the infirmary,” Ramsey says to Al. “I’ll have to clean it out again anyway. I can fix it.”

Al presses her lips together. “I trust you,” she says. “Don’t let her die.”

Ramsey nods. “She won’t die. I’ll promise you that.”

*

The doors to the infirmary swing open, and Ginny looks up from the bench against the wall. “So?” Ginny says, tilting her hat back. “How is she?”

“She’s fine,” Dr. Ramsey sighs. She shakes her head. “They relented. Agreed to give her morphine, but obviously we’re going to watch her.”

Ginny smiles wearily. “No new addictions on our watch,” she jokes. “What should I tell Maddie?”

“Tell her Alicia’s going to live,” Dr. Ramsey says. “And her leg will most likely be fine.”

“Most likely? I’m supposed to tell Maddie her daughter’s leg will _most likely_ be fine?”

Dr. Ramsey shrugs and leans against the wall. “Don’t want to make promises you can’t keep, right?”

“Right,” Ginny agrees. She pushes herself up off the bench. “Set them up in the infirmary for the night,” Ginny says. “Todd’s still working on accommodating them in the new housing building. Finding rooms and such.”

Dr. Ramsey blinks. “So we’re keeping them here for the night?”

Ginny smiles. “And you’re staying with them. Watch her. I want to know if anything changes.”

“What about you?” Dr. Ramsey asks. “Are you heading back?”

“To Paradise Ridge?” Ginny scoffs. “Gosh, no. Not tonight, at least.”

Dr. Ramsey smirks. “If you were really so inclined, you could watch over Alicia yourself.”

“What fun would that be?” Ginny replies. “I’ve got to talk to Todd. You make sure they’re alright. And if they try anything –”

“I think they’re too tired for that.”

Ginny nods. “Then have a good night, Dr. Ramsey.”

“Yeah.”

*

The doors swing back open, and Al lifts her head from the side of the mattress. Sitting on a stool, slumped against the edge of Alicia’s bed isn’t the most comfortable sleeping position, but Al refuses to leave Alicia’s side. Luci’s doing the same thing on the opposite side of the bed. Wes is passed out on one of the infirmary’s beds behind Al.

“Ramsey,” Al mumbles. She pushes her hand into her hair, leaning back. “What’re you doing back here?”

“I filled Ginny in,” Ramsey says. “I’m stuck with you for the night.”

Al chuckles. “Join the party,” she says.

Ramsey rolls her eyes but smiles. “I’m here to watch over Alicia. Make sure she doesn’t bleed to death overnight.”

“She won’t –”

“I know,” Ramsey cuts in. She drags a chair over to the foot of Alicia’s bed and takes a seat. “Ginny’s orders. But you’re all staying here tonight, too, so feel free to sleep anywhere. He’s already made himself at home.”

Al glances over at Wes before her eyes return to Alicia. The morphine eased her into sleep. Luci’s still out on the other side of the bed, her head resting against her arms. Al’s back is going to kill her in the morning, but she takes up her previous position, resting her head against the mattress next to Alicia’s arm. Alicia was alright before they put her back under to fix her leg again. She was alright when she came back to, when she agreed to take the morphine. She’ll be alright in the morning, Al’s sure. She still doesn’t feel right leaving Alicia’s side. Clearly, neither does Luci.

“So what about you?” Al says. “You live here, too?”

“Not normally.”

“Paradise Ridge, then?”

“Yeah.”

“Must be nice.”

“It’s fine.” Ramsey pauses. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“It’s my job.”

“Right. You’re the journalist.”

“Yeah.”

“And Alicia’s your –”

“Friend,” Al says quickly.

Ramsey hums. “Right.”

“Just keep her alive, okay?”

“I don’t know how to get you all to understand that she’s going to live,” Ramsey sighs. “As long as there’s no infection, and we’ll watch her to make sure that doesn’t happen. But God, as far as getting shot goes, she got pretty lucky.”

Al grunts. “Sure. Don’t kill me in my sleep, okay? That’d be impolite.”

Ramsey snorts. “I’m a doctor, technically. It’s my job to save lives, not take them.”

“Yeah, alright,” Al says. “Just stay over there, okay?”

Ramsey holds her arms out. “I’m not moving.”

Al inhales deeply and closes her eyes. The next thing she knows, she’s snapping awake. Someone’s tapping on the top of her head.

“Mm, what – Alicia?” Al mumbles. Al sits up abruptly, momentarily forgetting where she is. Alicia’s hand slides off her head. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Alicia grunts. “Just – can you get me some water?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Hang on.”

Al crosses the infirmary to get the water. Wes is still asleep in the same spot. So is Luci. And Ramsey’s still seated at the foot of Alicia’s bed, slumped forward with her arms crossed over her chest, fast asleep. Al gets the water for Alicia without disturbing anyone, and she has to help Alicia sit up halfway to drink it.

“Thank you,” Alicia says.

“Yeah.”

“Looks like we’ll see the sun rise again after all,” Alicia says quietly.

Al chuckles softly and drops back onto the stool. “Yeah, we didn’t die after all.”

“I just got shot.”

They share a tired laugh as Al leans against the side of the bed, propping her head up on her hand near Alicia’s shoulder. “No big deal,” Al jokes.

“I was going to save her,” Alicia says quietly. “I mean, she probably would’ve killed the walker before it got her, but still. I was going to kill that walker to save Ginny. But I don’t know why.”

Al glances over at Ramsey, trying to gauge if she’s actually asleep or if she’s eavesdropping. Either way, Al lowers her voice when she says, “The way I see it, we need Ginny right now. As long as we’re here, we’ll eat regularly. We’ll be relatively safe if we cooperate. And when the time is right –”

“We’ll act,” Alicia finishes. Alicia just seems to realize Luci’s asleep on the opposite side of the bed. “How long have you guys been here?” Alicia questions.

“All night.”

“You didn’t have to stay.”

“Sure we did,” Al says. “And Wes is right behind me.”

“Are we the only ones here?” Alicia asks.

“As far as I know, yes.”

Alicia exhales heavily. “This isn’t good.”

“I know.” Al pauses. “How’s your leg feeling? Are you in pain?”

“I’m fine.”

“Did the morphine –?”

“It wore off,” Alicia confirms.

“Do you need –?”

“No,” Alicia says. “Don’t give me more.”

“Okay.”

Alicia flips her hand over, offers her palm to Al. After a moment, Al gingerly takes Alicia’s hand, links their fingers together. “You should sleep,” Alicia says. “You’ll probably have to work in the morning.”

“Probably. But it’s okay.”

“Be honest. Do you really think everything’s going to work out in our favor?”

Al exhales, drops her forehead down onto their clasped hands. “I don’t know,” she admits. “I hope so. All we can do is try to make things right.”

“Even if we got out of here and got all our friends back – and my mom – what would we do? Where would we go?”

“Somewhere far away from Texas.”

*

“Good morning!”

Alicia groans, and Al nearly slides off the stool. She was right. Her back does hurt. And her hand is still clasped in Alicia’s. Al releases Alicia’s hand as Alicia’s still waking up and spins around to face Ginny, standing in the doorway of the infirmary with a big, stupid smile on her face. Also on Ginny’s face, though, is a massive, nasty bruise. From what, Al has no idea.

“Hey,” Al says warily. Ginny’s hand drops onto Ramsey’s shoulder, and Ramsey jolts awake. Alicia, in the meantime, shakes Luci awake, and Al leans over to wake Wes. “So what’ve you got for us?” Al asks.

“Well, since you had an…unusual arrival last night, we’ve got to start from scratch,” Ginny informs. “We’ve got to get you into your rooms and get you jobs. Lucky for you, you’re at the smallest settlement the Pioneers have to offer, so you’ll have quite a bit of options to choose from.”

“Yeah, that’s great,” Al says brusquely. “What about Alicia?”

“She’ll be here for a couple more nights,” Ginny assures her. “Todd found some crutches, but Dr. Ramsey here will monitor her and we’ll go from there. And Alicia, you can either fill out the form, or I can have your mom do it.”

“Form?” Al questions.

Ginny hums and holds up the clipboard Al didn’t bother to notice. “We’re very organized around here,” Ginny says. “I’ll leave these for you. Fill them out. I’ll be back shortly.”

Ginny drops the clipboard onto the counter and walks out without another word. After a long moment, Ramsey grabs the clipboard and passes it to Al. “I suggest you fill it out honestly,” she says as Al takes the clipboard. “It’s not worth lying.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Al mutters. She hands a form to Luci and Wes then turns to Alicia. “Do you want a form, or should we tell Ginny to have Madison fill it out?”

“You think I can write properly lying down?”

Al shrugs. “I can do it for you. Just tell me what to write.”

“Fill out your own first,” Alicia says. “And if it’s painful, we’ll let my mom do it.”

Al cracks a smile, eyes skimming over the double-sided piece of paper. “What, they got printers here or something?”

“At Paradise Ridge,” Ramsey pipes up.

“That’s stupid,” Al says.

“Previous occupation?” Luci reads aloud. “Skills and abilities? What is this, a job application?”

“Essentially,” Ramsey says.

“And if you don’t like the answers? Then what? We get thrown out?” Luci asks.

Ramsey shrugs. “I highly doubt you’ll fail. Ginny has been very interested in you all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize but updates will be more sporadic, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter! As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	19. we have to get out of here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had my first day of law classes today, but I found it in me to edit this chapter! Hope you enjoy it!

“What was your previous occupation, Alicia?” Al asks wryly.

“High school student,” Alicia answers.

Al laughs. “That’s a terrible answer.”

“Well, we can’t tell them I scooped ice cream. That’s just sad.”

“You’re right. How about _unemployed_?”

“No! That’s worse.”

They both laugh, and Al shakes her head. “Fine, we’ll leave it blank for now. Madison can cover for you.”

“This form is bullshit,” Alicia says.

“Tell me about it. What are your skills?”

“Kicking ass and taking names,” Alicia jokes. “But it’s kind of true. Just put killing walkers. Maybe construction projects on the side. I was pretty handy around the stadium.”

“See, now you’re thinking,” Al says, tapping the pen against her temple. “Let’s say you’re willing to go on supply runs. You can drive, and you’re only a little bit reckless about it. All the skills you need. Now, it wants your sexual history.”

“My what? Are you serious?”

“God, no,” Al laughs. “But you should’ve seen the look on your face!”

Alicia wrestles the clipboard out of Al’s hands and whacks her on the shoulder with it. “That’s not funny,” Alicia grumbles.

“It was pretty fucking funny. Give that back. But it does want to know if you’ve got any sexually transmissible illnesses,” Al says. Alicia gives Al a withering look until Al writes _no_. “It wants your education level.”

“I’ve survived this long without a degree. What do they care about my education?” Alicia asks.

“Probably for the rebuild somewhere down the line. We might need teachers again someday.”

“Not yet,” Alicia snorts. “Anyway, I barely graduated high school before all this. So what else?”

Al pauses. “They want to know all your living family.”

Alicia blinks. “Madison Clark,” she says quietly. “That’s a stupid fucking question. Next.”

“It wants to know what job you’d prefer. There’s a whole list here. Farming, construction, security –”

“Security,” Alicia says.

Al nods. “It needs a signature.”

“Just forge it.”

Al rolls her eyes and hands the clipboard and pen to Alicia. “Scribble something.”

Alicia scrawls something that might pass as a signature at the bottom of the form and hands the clipboard back. “I guess this means you have to go,” Alicia says. Her teeth sink into her lower lip as she waits for Al’s answer.

“Ginny said she’d come back,” Al says. “So I’m going to wait for her to come back. But you should probably lie back down.”

“I feel fine,” Alicia dismisses. “As long as I don’t move.”

“I don’t think you should stay sitting up.”

“You worry too much,” Alicia dismisses. “The doctor says I’ll be fine.”

“As long as it doesn’t get infected,” Al reminds.

“She’s changing the bandages like clockwork,” Alicia says. “She’s already done it twice, and it’s barely after noon.”

“Probably because Ginny will kill her if you die.”

Alicia shrugs. “Whatever the reason is, I don’t care. As long as I live and can walk.”

“You have to take it easy if you want to walk,” Al says. She stands from her stool and goes to drop the clipboard on the counter against the far wall.

“When can I get out of this place? There’s, like, no privacy, and the doctor has to keep helping me to the bathroom. It’s embarrassing.”

“When you can get around on crutches, probably,” Al replies. “Just relax. You aren’t missing much.”

“You got a tour of this place earlier,” Alicia comments. “What’s it like?”

Al shrugs. “They call it the Lanes because the bowling alley is the one place in this plaza that wasn’t completely gutted and renovated. They turned a shoe store into a kitchen and cafeteria. This infirmary was a small pharmacy originally. They built additional housing onto the back of the Lanes. The crops are behind that with the stables. There are only about thirty people here, led by this guy Todd Allen.”

“You met him?”

“Sure.”

“And?”

“He seems fine,” Al says. “Didn’t say much.”

“Are the rooms at least nice?” Alicia asks.

Al returns to the stool at Alicia’s bedside and sits back down, exhaling. “The rooms are fine. There’s a living space. Two bedrooms. A bathroom. We’ve been assigned to 5A. I’ve already moved us in. Luci and Wes are in 5B, right across the hall.”

Alicia nods. “It could be worse,” she says. Her expression darkens. “Our friends might have it worse.”

“We don’t even really know how bad we have it yet, Alicia,” Al says quietly. “We’ve spent one night here in the infirmary. We don’t know how this is going to go.”

Alicia’s lips press together. She reaches over and grasps onto Al’s hand. She doesn’t know why she’s surprised when Al squeezes back. “We’ll figure it out,” Alicia says.

Before Al can reply, the doors are thrown open, and Ginny asks, “Got those forms all filled out?”

“On the counter,” Al says. Her eyes don’t leave Alicia, even as Alicia stares past her at Ginny.

“Wonderful,” Ginny says.

“What happened to your face?” Alicia asks. Al’s grasp on her hand tightens in warning, but Ginny laughs breezily. She snags the clipboard off the counter, skims over the pages.

“Little accident,” Ginny answers. “Nothing to worry about.”

“You look like you got decked,” Alicia says.

“Alicia,” Al says quietly. “Don’t push her.”

“You should take your girl’s advice, Alicia,” Ginny says.

“She’s not – we aren’t –” Alicia sputters, but Ginny ignores her.

“You may be Maddie’s daughter, but that doesn’t mean you can get away with anything. Just so you know,” Ginny says. “You were pretty young when all this started, weren’t you, Alicia? Is that why the previous occupation space is blank?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve done pretty well for yourself, though, haven’t you?” Ginny questions.

“I’ve made it this far without dying, so I’d say yeah,” Alicia replies.

Ginny nods. “We’d love to have you on our security team once you get back on your feet,” she says. “I’m not surprised you’d choose to follow in your mother’s footsteps.”

Alicia’s eyebrows pull together. “What do you mean?”

Ginny laughs. “You didn’t know? Maddie’s the head of security for our entire organization. In fact, I’m really glad you chose security. You’re obviously suited for it.” Before Alicia can respond, Ginny continues, “Oh, and Al, I’ve got a special assignment for you, tailored to your particular skillset.” Ginny holds the clipboard up. “Let me get these filed away. Your friends should be back soon, and Dr. Ramsey will check back in, too.”

Ginny glides out of the infirmary, leaving Al and Alicia alone once again.

“My mom is the head of security for the Pioneers?” Alicia questions.

“I guess so.”

“What does that even mean?”

Al frowns. “I doubt it means anything good.”

*

“Nothing’s broken. It’s just going to look bad for a while.”

Ginny nods curtly and plops her hat back on her head. “That’s what I figured,” Ginny says. If she could’ve avoided being whacked by Morgan’s staff, she would’ve, but at least it didn’t break any bones. She hasn’t breached the subject of Morgan’s untimely death with Dr. Ramsey yet, and she’s not sure she’s going to at all. Dr. Ramsey knows not to talk about things like that. “Sorry for showing up at your place unannounced, but I’d rather not have you poke at my face in the infirmary while Maddie Clark’s daughter is in there.”

Dr. Ramsey shrugs. “I’d hardly call this _my_ place,” she says. “It’s only temporary.” Dr. Ramsey pauses in front of the kitchen sink, holding her coffee mug under the tap even though she hasn’t turned on the water yet. “It _is_ only temporary, right?” she questions.

Ginny sighs and stands from the couch. Dr. Ramsey’s couch. “If I recall you to Paradise Ridge while Alicia Clark isn’t fully healed, Maddie will flip.”

“Dr. Bolton is here,” Dr. Ramsey points out. She finally turns on the tap, rinses out the coffee mug, and sets it in the sink. “He’s more than capable –”

“You’re better,” Ginny interrupts.

“Not really,” Dr. Ramsey says. “I never finished my residency.”

“And Bolton can barely keep up with what we ask of him,” Ginny dismisses. “He’s losing his touch. I need you to stay here with them until Alicia’s back on her feet. Maddie won’t have it any other way.”

“Maddie’s not in charge,” Dr. Ramsey says.

“You’re right. And I’m telling you to stay here.”

Dr. Ramsey exhales, pinching the bridge of her nose between her index finger and thumb. “Why do I feel like I’ve just been demoted?”

“Quite the opposite, actually,” Ginny says. She crosses from the living area to the kitchen, standing a few feet away from Dr. Ramsey. “You’re the only one I trust to keep Maddie’s daughter safe.”

“Then send her to Paradise Ridge to be with her mother.”

Ginny laughs. “You’re lucky I like you, Dr. Ramsey.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that you can call me Hayley?” Dr. Ramsey says. There’s only a slight hint of irritation in her voice. Ginny smiles.

“You can keep trying,” Ginny says. “Probably isn’t worth your time, though. Make sure you check in on Alicia frequently, okay? She seems like a troublemaker.”

“Like her mother.”

Ginny winks. “Exactly.”

Ginny doesn’t noticed the troubled look on Dr. Ramsey’s face when she leans in to quickly press her lips to the doctor’s jaw.

*

“Alicia, how’re you feeling?” Ramsey asks before she’s even fully in the infirmary.

“Same as two hours ago,” Alicia answers. “What about you? How are you feeling?”

Ramsey cracks a smile and washes her hands, snaps a pair of gloves onto them. “Perfectly fine, thanks for asking.”

“When can I get out of here?” Alicia asks.

“Few more days, probably,” Ramsey answers. At least she _has_ answers. Ginny loves to not answer simple questions. “No point in transporting you across the settlement until you can support yourself on crutches. And of course, you’ll still be mostly resting in your room, and Al will probably have to help you around.”

Alicia nods then comments, “This settlement doesn’t seem too big.”

“It’s not,” Ramsey confirms. “Can I –?”

Alicia motions toward her injured leg, wincing as Ramsey unwinds the bandages. Alicia stares up at the ceiling, refuses to try to look at what that Pioneer’s bullet did to her. That’s Ramsey’s job, anyway. “Not infected?” Alicia asks.

“It looks fine. I’ll just clean it and patch it back up.”

The silence gets uncomfortably quickly. “Bolton stopped by earlier,” Alicia says. It was weird. Bolton’s demeanor was off. Maybe Ramsey knows something. Ramsey freezes, and that gets Alicia to chance looking over at her. She can’t get over how much Ramsey doesn’t look like a doctor, especially in comparison to Bolton. At least Bolton is kind of old. And he’d been wearing a white lab coat with his name embroidered on it. Ramsey, though, is in jeans and a tank top. And Al was right. She does kind of look like a fucking model.

“Why?” Ramsey asks.

“He grabbed some supplies,” Alicia says. “I don’t know. He didn’t say anything to me besides _hi_.”

“What’d he take?” Ramsey asks. She goes back to work cleaning the gunshot wound, and Alicia hisses. “Sorry,” Ramsey adds.

“I don’t know. Some kind of medication? He had to unlock one of the cabinets to get it.”

Ramsey nods. She finishes her work, replacing the bandages over the wound and securing it. “You’re looking good,” Ramsey informs. She pats Alicia’s knee and stands, removing her gloves. She goes to wash her hands and write down some notes. Alicia manages to prop herself up onto her elbows and stare across the room at Ramsey.

“Where’s Al?” Alicia asks.

“With Ginny.”

“Doing what?” Alicia presses.

“Getting her job assignment, I think,” Ramsey answers. She glances over her shoulder at Alicia. “She’ll come back. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Right.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” Ramsey says. “Try to rest.”

Alicia lowers herself back down onto the pillow. After a moment, she hears a set of keys jingling, and she turns her head until she can see Ramsey unlocking the same cabinet Bolton had earlier. Ramsey doesn’t touch anything, doesn’t take anything. She just stares into the open cabinet and then scrawls something on her notepad. Alicia resists the urge to ask what she’s doing. After she checks the cabinet a few times and writes her notes, she shuts it and locks it back up.

Even though Ramsey’s out in the hall by the time she speaks, it’s so quiet, Alicia can hear her clearly. “Ginny? We need to talk.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to make it quick,” Ginny’s reply comes over the walkie. “I’m due back at Paradise Ridge for the night.”

“It’s urgent.”

*

“Think of it like this,” Ginny says. Al can feel Ginny’s eyes on her as she studies the equipment set up in the shed that serves as the Lanes’ call center, as the Pioneers call it. The call center is one radio at a desk, surrounded by all the equipment Al’s going to need to edit tapes. Al can’t take her eyes off of it all. This is exactly what she didn’t have with the convoy. “You are getting our message out there.”

“Sure,” Al says. “And what exactly is that message?”

“That we’re here to help, of course,” Ginny laughs. “That we’re here to rebuild what we once had, only better. We’re going to create a new world, Al. It starts here, with us. And given your prior experience, you are the perfect person to put in charge of that.”

“Right.”

“Of course, I don’t expect you to start immediately,” Ginny continues. “Not while Alicia’s still recovering. I know you’ll want to be at her side as much as possible.”

Al finally turns to face Ginny, eyes narrowed, but Al doesn’t justify the comment with a response. Her eyes lock with Ginny’s, and Ginny smiles. After a few moments pass in silence, Al finally says, “I won’t create propaganda for you. Surely you know that.”

“Of course. I don’t expect you to. I think you’ll see the value in what we’re doing here after a few days.”

They’re interrupted by Ginny’s walkie, by Ramsey saying, “Ginny? We need to talk.”

Ginny hums and answers,. “Well, you’re gonna have to make it quick. I’m due back at Paradise Ridge for the night.”

Al startles at this information. So Ginny’s more than happy to hand the reins back over to Todd? He’s been staying out of her way since she’s been here, Al knows. At least she thinks she kind of understands how to handle Ginny. Handling Todd could be a whole new issue, given that she knows next to nothing about him.

“It’s urgent,” Ramsey insists.

Ginny’s head tilts to the side as she thinks. Her eyes don’t leave Al. “Okay, give me a minute,” Ginny answers. “I’ll meet you at 3B right away.” Ginny hooks the walkie on her belt then says to Al, “You better get back to the infirmary. Don’t want to keep your girl waiting too long.”

“She’s not my girl,” Al says. Not officially, at least. She isn’t sure what game they’re playing. But that’s none of Ginny’s business.

Ginny smiles broadly. “Sure she’s not,” she says. “Now go on.”

“You’re going back to Paradise Ridge,” Al says before Ginny can walk out of the call center. “Why?”

“You know I don’t answer to you, Al.”

“I know, but humor me.”

“I’ve got to make sure everything’s running smoothly, of course,” Ginny says.

“You don’t trust Madison?”

“Of course I trust her, but she just had new people arrive. I’ll be paying a visit out to Shoreline and Westfield, too. Just normal, procedural stuff, Al. But don’t you worry. I’ll be back before you can miss me too much.”

Al smiles thinly. “Take your time.”

Ginny tips her hat. “Think you can find the infirmary on your own?”

“If not, I’m sure there’ll be someone around to direct me.”

Al finds her way to the infirmary without any trouble. She _does_ find trouble, though. As Al walks in, Alicia’s not only sitting up, but she’s trying to scoot herself off the bed. Al reaches Alicia before her feet can touch the floor and gets her under the arms, dragging her back up onto the bed as Alicia protests.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Al exclaims. “You know you can’t walk!”

“Something bad is going to happen,” Alicia says.

Alicia stares at Al with wide eyes as Al’s eyebrows pull together. “What do you mean?” Al asks.

“Ramsey was in here, and I told her I met Bolton. I don’t know why I brought it up. I guess I just felt awkward being silent, but she asked what he was here for, and I told her he just grabbed some supplies and left. And – and then she searched the cabinets and called for Ginny. Something bad is going to happen.”

Al inhales deeply, thinking this information over. “That’s not our problem now,” Al says. “And even if it was, you shouldn’t be trying to get up.”

“I can’t just stay in this bed anymore!”

“You don’t have a choice,” Al says. She sighs and hoists herself up onto the bed beside Alicia. She lays her hand on Alicia’s uninjured thigh, tries to sound as soothing as possible when she says, “You’ll be up soon. Just take it easy. I’ll be here with you.”

Alicia presses her lips together and brushes Al’s hand off her thigh. “Easy for you to say. You aren’t restricted to a bed all day. The only thing I get to look forward to is Ramsey bringing me meals and poking at my leg.”

“Look on the bright side,” Al says. “At least you got the young, hot doctor.”

Alicia rolls her eyes, resisting a smile as Al laughs and pushes at Alicia’s arm. “You’re not funny,” Alicia says, but even she’s grinning now. “If she’s so hot, why don’t you ask her out or something? I doubt she’s got anything better to do besides making sure I don’t die.”

Al snorts. “Yeah, right.”

“Seriously.”

Al exhales, looks over to Alicia curiously. “You know, I didn’t sleep with you just because we could’ve died, Alicia.”

“I don’t – what?”

“I guess we didn’t really get a chance to talk much, did we?” Al says. Before she can slide off the edge of the bed, Alicia grabs her by the arm, stops her from moving away.

“I guess not,” Alicia agrees quietly. “Since we couldn’t get a minute alone, then the fence came down, and I got shot and all. So maybe we should talk now.”

“This isn’t a game to me, Alicia. We thought we were going to die, and we didn’t, and now we have to deal with the fact that –”

A chiming sound scares the hell out of both Alicia and Al, and a speaker Al never noticed in the corner of the room floods the infirmary with the sound of a man’s voice. “All personnel, report to the front gates immediately.”

Al jumps off the bed, muttering, “Fuck me, I can’t ever get just one fucking moment, can I?”

“Wait!” Alicia calls. She manages to lean forward and snag Al’s wrist, stop her from running out of the infirmary.

“Now we have to deal with the fact that I like you, Alicia,” Al blurts out. “And maybe I’ve been trying to pawn you off on Wes this whole time because I thought that’d make it easier to handle my own feelings about you. But we slept together, and we didn’t die, so now we have to deal with it.”

Alicia’s hand slips off of Al’s wrist. Her jaw goes slack, lips parted, but she doesn’t seem capable of forming words right now. That’s perfectly fine. Al’s more than happy to give her time to think it over, now that she’s heard it straight from Al. Now that Al finally made herself put it all out there.

“Al,” Alicia says quietly, but Al’s more than halfway to the doors. Al turns back, eyebrows raising, but before Alicia can continue, the doors are thrown open. Al startles as Ramsey sweeps into the room, out of breath with sweat beading on her forehead.

“Go,” Ramsey orders, grabbing ahold of Al’s arm and shoving her toward the door. “Go to the gates. It’s mandatory.”

“And Alicia?” Al questions.

“She’s exempt,” Ramsey dismisses. “That’s why I’m here. Go!”

*

Todd can more than handle the little situation at the Lanes, so Ginny doesn’t delay her trip to Paradise Ridge. Chet immediately lets her in, and she’s just parking the Hummer when Maddie walks over.

“Maddie!” Ginny exclaims. “It’s so good to see you.”

“How’s my daughter?” Maddie demands.

“She’s doing well,” Ginny informs. “Dr. Ramsey is taking good care of her, as promised. She should be up on crutches in a few days, hopefully.”

“Give her the time she needs to properly heal,” Maddie says. “Please.”

Ginny nods. “And how are things here? Is the transition going smoothly?”

Maddie nods. “You brought back an old friend of mine.”

“Did I, now?”

“Daniel Salazar,” Maddie says, as if the name should mean something to Ginny. “I’ve already agreed to let him be our barber.”

Ginny laughs. “Well, your old friend just filled the one impossible job slot to find someone good for! I might just have to meet him.”

Maddie offers a thin smile. “And I’ve set Wendell up to join our brewers.”

“Wonderful.”

“And I’ve done as you’ve asked with Tom and Janis,” Maddie says quietly. “They’re in your room, and I’ve had a guard posted outside the door since they got here.”

“Perfect.”

Maddie hesitates. “Ma’am…what happened to your face?”

Ginny’s fingertips touch the welt left behind by Morgan’s staff, but she puts on a smile for Maddie. “Just a minor accident at the Gulch,” she says. “Nothing to worry about. Dr. Ramsey looked at it.”

Maddie nods. “Can I speak to my daughter?”

“Absolutely,” Ginny says. She motions toward the call center. “Now that I’m here, take your time.”

“How long are you staying?” Maddie asks.

“Just until morning, most likely,” Ginny answers. “I have to check in at Shoreline and Westfield. I’ll probably be spending some time at the Lanes. Gotta make sure Todd can handle everything.” Ginny pauses. “Before you call Alicia, do me a favor? Summon Tom and Janis to the gate. Get Chet and Lyle to help you. I’ll be waiting.”

*

Al joins the rest of the thirty-ish residents of Imperial Lanes at the gates. She scans the crowd until she spots Luci and Wes and pushes her way through people to reach them.

“Al!” Luci says, immediately hugging her. “Where have you been?”

“Ginny was showing me all their equipment,” Al answers. “It sounds like she wants me to make videos for them, like what we did for ourselves. I don’t know. She got interrupted. Where have you been?”

“They showed me around the fields,” Luci says. “Showed me where all their tools are. I’m farming, and Wes is –”

“Construction,” he says wryly. “Who knows? Maybe they’ll ask me to paint this place.”

Al shakes her head. “What’s going on out here?”

“We don’t know yet,” Luci says. “Have you seen Alicia?”

“She’s fine,” Al assures her. “I just came from the infirmary.”

“Whatever’s going on here, it can’t be good,” Wes says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Look at everyone around us. They’re all on edge.”

Before Al or Luci can respond, one man leads another to the front of the crowd. Al recognizes them both. The big man, with a full beard and a shaved head covered by a hat, is Todd Allen. He’s pushing an older man forward. An older man in a white lab coat. That man, Al knows, is Bolton. He’d helped when they’d first arrived. Not much – Ramsey had done most of the work – but he was there.

“That’s Todd,” Luci whispers. “He was the one giving me the tour and explaining how things are done. What is he doing?”

Everyone around them falls silent as Todd comes to a stop in front of the gates beside Bolton. Todd speaks loudly, but he barely has to. His voice is deep and booming naturally, and it’d be hard not to hear him. “All of the fine people here at the Lanes understand one major principle that the Pioneers hold, isn’t that right?” Todd says. “Someone tell me what it is.”

“We don’t waste resources!” a man shouts.

“Correct,” Todd says. He adjusts his hat then holds onto his belt. “So why am I standing up here next to our very own Dr. Bolton?” This question, though, no one has an answer for. But Al’s blood runs cold.

“Oh no,” she says, mostly to herself, but it catches Luci’s attention.

“What?” Luci whispers.

“Alicia caught Bolton taking supplies from the infirmary and passed that information to Ramsey,” Al says as quietly as she can manage.

Luci’s eyes widen. “So…what? They’re going to publicly shame him?”

Al shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

“We have confirmation that Dr. Bolton has been nicking supplies from the infirmary,” Todd informs the crowd. The crowd roars in outrage, startling Al, Luci, and Wes. Instinctively, they shift closer together, but the crowd controls itself. They yell and jeer and curse, but they don’t take any other action. In fact, strangely enough, the body language of the people around Al is pretty relaxed. Todd waits for them to quiet down. “Dr. Bolton, what do you have to say for yourself?” Todd asks.

“Life is sacred,” Bolton says. “And we have a duty to help those in need –”

Todd apparently is done waiting. As Bolton speaks, Todd pulls the revolver from his hip and puts a bullet through the back of Bolton’s head. Al, Luci, and Wes all jump at the shot. Luci cries out but clamps her hands over her mouth to stifle it. Bolton’s body hits the pavement. The crowd is silent.

“We don’t deviate from the rules,” Todd announces. He holsters his revolver. “No one is exempt, no matter what your reasoning may be, no matter how valuable you may think you are. I hope this is clear. Go back to work.”

The crowd starts to disperse as Todd orders someone to dispose of the doctor’s body. Al’s too stunned to move at first, and she thinks maybe the same is true for Luci, too.

“Come on,” Wes says. He grabs Al and Luci’s arms and leads them back to the Lanes. “We don’t want to be the last people left standing here.”

“Did they really just execute their own doctor?” Luci asks.

“Yes,” Wes answers. “And I think that tells us exactly what these people are like.”

“Everyone’s expendable,” Al mutters. She shakes Wes’s hand off of her. “Just watch yourselves, okay? Keep your heads down. We don’t want to end up like Bolton.”

“We can’t stay here,” Luci hisses. “These people – they’re – we can’t be like them.”

“We just need to stay alive until we can do something about it,” Al assures her.

“We better do something soon. Or else maybe we will end up like Bolton.”

*

“Why are you still here?” Alicia asks.

Ramsey lowers her book. “Sorry?”

“You’re just sitting here,” Alicia points out. “Why? I’ve been fine on my own. My leg isn’t infected. So why are you here?”

Ramsey exhales. “I’m just doing what I’m told, Alicia.”

“Right.”

The walkie on Ramsey’s belt goes off, and Ramsey sets her book aside to grab it. “Hayley, do you copy?”

Hayley? Alicia’s eyebrows pull together, but only because it’s weird hearing a familiar voice call Ramsey by her first name. “That’s my mom,” Alicia says.

“She’s the only person in this place that actually calls me by my name,” Ramsey says. “I copy, Madison. What’s up?”

“I need to speak to Alicia.”

“She’s here,” Ramsey – Hayley? – says. “Hang on.” Hayley hands the walkie over to Alicia and points at the doors. “I’ll be right outside,” she says. Alicia nods and watches her until she leaves before she picks up the walkie.

“Mom?” Alicia says.

“Alicia! Thank God. How’re you feeling? Ginny told me you were shot.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Alicia assures her. “Well, I’m fine now. Getting shot was – it wasn’t great, obviously. But I’m okay.”

“I’m so sorry,” Madison says. “You should be here with me right now. Instead…I know Ginny diverted you to the Lanes because sending you out this far would be risky, but if you want a transfer once you’re up –”

“I can’t leave them behind,” Alicia cuts in. “Al and Luci and Wes – I can’t just leave them here by themselves.”

“I thought you might say that.”

Alicia swallows hard. “How come you didn’t mention you’re the head of security, Mom? Seems like something that should’ve come up.”

“I didn’t want you to worry about me,” Madison answers. “I’m just trying to keep you safe, Alicia.”

Alicia hesitates, reminds herself she can’t speak her mind over the radio. “I know,” she says slowly. _But none of us are safe here_. “Can’t you come out here?” Alicia asks.

“I’m running Paradise Ridge, Alicia. I can’t leave unless Ginny allows me.”

“But Ginny went back.”

“Not permanently,” Madison says. “She’ll be off to Shoreline soon. Then Westfield. Then back to the Lanes, it sounds like. You know I would come to you if I could.”

“You should be able to.”

“I don’t make the rules.”

_You just play by them. You just stand by –_

“I know,” Alicia says. “But I can’t leave my friends behind. And everyone else, Mom…”

“Wendell and Daniel are here with me,” Madison says.

“But not Strand.”

There’s a long pause before Madison says, “Strand’s at Shoreline.”

“They split John and June up. Right after they were married.”

“I don’t call the shots.”

“Then what’s the point of being head of security?” Alicia asks.

“It’s kept me alive so far. It’s the main reason I found out that you were alive.”

Right. The Pioneers operate in some kind of hierarchy Alicia doesn’t fully understand. She just knows Ginny’s on top. The leaders of the individual settlements probably fall somewhere right below her. Madison’s probably up there, too, as head of security. Maybe.

“I need to see you in person again,” Alicia says.

“Soon,” Madison promises. “Once you’re fully healed.”

“What counts as fully healed?” Alicia questions.

“Capable of walking.”

“On crutches?”

Madison chuckles. “Fine,” she concedes. “But I want Hayley to clear you first.”

“I’m not telling her you said that.”

Madison laughs over the radio, and Alicia smiles to herself. “I’ll make sure she knows,” Madison says.

“You can’t just cut me some slack?”

“You need to heal,” Madison insists. “We’ll see each other soon. In the meantime, just rest. Take care of your friends. I know they’re doing their best to take care of you.”

It’s a strange comment, maybe, but Alicia just answers, “Okay, Mom.”

“And don’t give Hayley a hard time. She’s a nice kid.”

Hayley’s, like, Al’s age, probably. Hardly a kid. Alicia rolls her eyes. “You worry too much, Mom.”

“Just – believe me, she’s trying to help you. Don’t do anything to hurt yourself,” Madison warns.

“I’m fine, Mom! Oh my God.”

“Okay,” Madison laughs. “I have to go. We’ll arrange a time to meet up soon. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Stay safe.”

The radio goes quiet, and Alicia sets it aside. She supposes she could call Hayley back into the room, though she figures Hayley will come back anyway once she stops hearing voices. When the doors open, though, it’s not just Hayley. It’s Hayley with Al, Luci, and Wes following closely behind her. Luci looks vaguely sick, Wes looks unhappy, and Al looks…troubled.

“What?” Alicia asks. “Did something happen?”

“You should lie down,” Al says. “You need to heal. Sitting isn’t helping.”

“What do you know?” Alicia grumbles. “You’re a journalist.”

“You should lie down,” Hayley pipes up.

“See?” Al says, but her voice is flat.

Alicia’s eyes narrow. “What the hell happened?” she asks. “What was that mandatory meeting about?"

Luci and Al exchange a glance. A _should we tell her?_ kind of glance. Alicia makes a point of lying down and waits for someone to start talking.

“Bolton was executed,” Al says shortly.

“Over wasting resources,” Luci adds quietly.

“Can you give us a minute?” Al says to Hayley. Hayley nods and leaves the infirmary while Al and Luci join Alicia at her bedside. Wes starts pacing at the foot of the bed.

“I got him executed,” Alicia says.

“You did?” Wes asks.

“I – I mean, I reported it. I – I didn’t know I was reporting anything –”

“This was all the warning we need,” Al interrupts. She glances over her shoulder at the door. “We know what they’ll do if we step out of line.”

“We have to get out of here,” Alicia whispers.

“We will,” Luci says.

“When the time’s right,” Al says. “Until then – we need to play by their rules.”

“This never should’ve happened,” Alicia murmurs. “We never should’ve went to the Gulch.”

“It’s too late,” Wes says. “All we can do now is try to fix it.”

*

Tom and Janis are brought to the gate, as Ginny requested. Madison gets off her call with Alicia and goes to join the crowd gathering at the gate. Madison adjusts her hat and cautiously strolls over. Her hand rests near, but not on, her revolver. She catches a flash of red hair and heads in that direction, but before she can reach Ginny, Ginny thrusts her hand in the air, clutching a piece of paper.

“This is a list,” Ginny announces, “of grievances that the Pioneers have with Thomas and Janis Routledge. The main one being insubordination, but we can add something akin to treason onto that, too, can’t we? You did defect from our organization to join an opposing one. Either way, we talked it over. Thomas and Janis Routledge, you have been sentenced to execution.”

_We_ talked it over? Madison was not part of any such discussion. “Well, hold on a second,” Madison interjects. She shoves her way through the people separating her from Ginny. “You really think this is the best way to handle this situation?” Madison asks, keeping her voice low.

“Why, it’s the only way,” Ginny answers solemnly. “Otherwise we’ll have repeat offenders, and we don’t want that, do we? Maybe you didn’t hear. James Bolton was executed at Imperial Lanes today for stealing from the infirmary. If these offenders go unpunished, we send the message that others can get away with it.”

“You executed _Bolton_?” Madison hisses. “How do you think we’re going to replace someone like him?”

Ginny shrugs. “We’ve got June Dorie training at Westfield under Dr. Lukas right now, Maddie,” she says. “I think we’ll manage. Line ‘em up, Chet! I’ve got to get to Shoreline before sundown.”

Madison snags Ginny’s arm before she can walk away. “And what if something goes wrong with Alicia at the Lanes?” Madison questions. “You had Bolton executed.”

Ginny pulls her arm free impatiently and brushes at nonexistent specks of dust on her jacket. “Come on now, Maddie. Dr. Ramsey is more than capable of taking care of your little girl.”

“I just hope you know what you’re doing,” Madison says. “Executing our own people – think about the message that sends to outsiders.”

Ginny tips her hat back, lips pressing together. “Well, frankly Maddie, not all outsiders are worth taking in. You just remember that.” Ginny pauses. “Maybe you’d like to do the honors. As our head of security.”

Madison stiffens. Her jaw clenches. “I would _not_ like to do the honors. Respectfully, I decline."

A smile flickers on Ginny’s face, but not her signature cheery one. This smile is mirthless. “Very well,” Ginny says. She makes her way to the front of the gate and draws her revolver. She cocks the hammer. A low murmur goes through the crowd that had gathered. Before the first shot fires, Madison looks away.

*

Alicia can’t sleep. Luci and Wes are both fast asleep, Luci in the bed to Alicia’s left, Wes in the one on her right. Al’s still sitting up on a stool near Alicia’s head, a book propped open in her lap. They haven’t spoken recently, but Alicia takes solace in Al’s presence. Ramsey’s spending the night with them again, but she too has taken one of the other infirmary beds, bundled beneath the sheets. Out of sight, out of mind.

“I got him killed,” Alicia finally says when the silence becomes unbearable. Al lifts her head and looks over at Alicia.

“Hmm?”

“Bolton,” Alicia says quietly. “I got him killed.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Al says. “You didn’t know.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You didn’t know,” Al repeats. She reaches over and grasps onto Alicia’s hand. “And now we know what happens for minor infractions.”

“How are all these people okay with this?” Alicia whispers. “Executions for breaking rules? How can they support this?”

Al sighs. “They’re fed three times a day. Good meals. They have running water. Generators that power their settlements. They feel safe here. So they obey the rules, and they’re okay with other people suffering extreme consequences for their actions, whatever they may be. I bet you most of these people abide by the principles of this place.”

“And what are the rules?” Alicia asks. “It’s not like we’ve been told.”

“Don’t steal. Don’t waste resources,” Al lists off. “Don’t disobey Ginny. What more do you need to know?”

“I need to know how the fuck we’re going to get out of here.”

Al shushes her sharply. “Ramsey is right over there,” Al reminds.

“She’s asleep.”

“You can’t be sure. She reported Bolton. She seems to be friendly with Ginny. Don’t trust her.”

“I don’t. I don’t know who to trust anymore,” Alicia admits.

“You can trust me,” Al says. “And Luci and Wes. It’s just the four of us now.”

Alicia exhales. “Get up here.”

“What?”

Alicia, with some difficulty, slides over. “Get up here,” she says.

“I’ll hurt you.”

“No,” Alicia says. “Here, help me onto my side.”

“Alicia –”

“Come on.”

Al stands and drops her book onto the stool, kicks it out of the way. She obliges, helping Alicia roll onto her uninjured side. “Now what?”

“Get behind me,” Alicia orders. Al slowly, carefully, lowers herself onto the mattress behind Alicia, tentatively lays her hand on Alicia’s arm. Alicia rolls her eyes to herself and drags Al’s arm around her waist, leaning back into her. “Just keep your arm away from my leg,” Alicia says.

“How’s it feel?”

“It’s fucking sore, but whatever Hayley’s giving me sort of helps.”

“Who’s Hayley?”

“Ramsey,” Alicia corrects. “Whatever. My mom calls her Hayley. It doesn’t matter. My leg is okay. Just – stay here. Please.”

“Alicia –”

“You said you like me,” Alicia says. Her voice seems louder than it is in the infirmary, and Al winces, tightening her arm around Alicia’s waist. “So stay. Please.”

“I’ll stay, Alicia.”

“Good.”

“You have to tell me if I hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me,” Alicia dismisses. “But trust me, I’ll tell you.”

She feels Al nod against the back of her neck. “Your mom is going to kill me,” Al says.

“I won’t let her.”

*

“We’re moving right along,” Dominic says. “I mean, you dumped all those kids – and a fucking cat – on me, but we worked them into the hotel, no problem. I’m having Jodie talk to all of them individually to try to figure out where to train all these kids. Though I don’t know what the cat’s gonna fucking do besides shit everywhere.”

“Do you want me to transfer the cat?” Ginny asks.

“No, no, I was just – I was being funny. The cat seems to keep the kids’ spirits up.”

“Apart from all the kids, I’ve sent you John Dorie and Victor Strand,” Ginny says after consulting her documents. She squints against the sunlight hitting her directly in the eye and asks, “What have you done to integrate them into the Shoreline community, Dominic?”

Dominic scratches the back of his neck and shrugs. “Dorie’s the cowboy-looking fella? I’ve got him in the security rotation, paired up with Josh. And I’ve added Strand to the construction team.”

“That sounds great,” Ginny says. She flashes a smile then scribbles something in her notes. “I’ll be checking in with you occasionally, Mr. Washington. If anything goes awry, I want to hear about it.”

“Yes, ma’am. You absolutely will. Should I get a room prepared for you?”

“Not necessary,” Ginny dismisses. “I’m heading straight out to Westfield.”

*

Alicia wakes up, pleased to find Al’s arm still wrapped around her. She can feel Al’s forehead resting against the back of her neck, feels the steady rise and fall of Al’s chest as she breathes. It’s comforting. She can’t tell how early or late it might be, but she feels rested. She can see Luci’s still asleep in the bed next to her, and she bets Wes is still asleep on the opposite side. It’s silent.

Alicia reaches behind her and taps Al on the hip until she stirs. “What’s the matter?” Al mumbles. She starts to pull her arm back then freezes. “You okay? Is your leg –?”

“My leg is fucking fine, Al,” Alicia interrupts. “I mean, it will be, once I take more pills, but I’m sure Hayley will look at it and say it’s not infected, and I’ll be stuck in this bed for another day.”

“Then why’d you wake me?” Al complains. She locks her arm against Alicia’s chest and drops her forehead against Alicia’s upper back, exhaling heavily.

“I need to tell you something while it’s just the two of us.”

“Okay, so tell me.”

“I’m in this with you,” Alicia says softly. “I don’t know how things are going to go, but we’re in this together.”

Al chuckles. “Is this your way of saying you like me too?”

Alicia grimaces. “I guess it is.”

“Good,” Al says. “We’ll figure it out later. I’m going back to sleep.”

“You don’t want to stay up with me?”

“I think Ginny’s still gone. You can have me all day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder, you can always find me at blinkaftermidnight on tumblr, since it's taking me longer to update this story now that I'm in school.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	20. i'm not willing to die for you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So law school has been a thing. But here's this chapter, at least. Hope you enjoy it!

“I think training would go a lot quicker if you transferred Dr. Bolton out here,” Dr. Lukas says, not for the first time. In fact, he requests Dr. Bolton’s transfer every single time Ginny visits Westfield Medical Center. They’re barely ten minutes into their meeting when he brings it up, and Ginny grins widely as the words leave his mouth.

“Well, Dr. Lukas, I know you are more than capable of properly training our medical staff,” Ginny says. She puts her hands on her hips and stares him dead in the eye. “And you’ll have to be, because Dr. Bolton is dead. I cannot transfer him here, unless you wish to store his body in your morgue. But if the pressure is too much for you to handle, I’m sure I can find someone else to fill your position.”

It takes Dr. Lukas a moment to recover from the shock. He adjusts his glass and stammers, “I – no, of course I can handle it, ma’am.” He clears his throat, jams his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. “We’re just getting a little understaffed here. You know how it is. There are never enough people.”

Ginny smiles thinly. “Tell me about it, Doctor. Now tell me, how are our new recruits doing?”

“Thankfully, June Dorie was a nurse and knows quite a bit on her own already. She’s helping me train the girl you sent with her. Charlie. She’s catching on fast. And with the addition of Sarah, we’ll be making more alcohol than ever before. In fact, I think we’ll eliminate our alcohol shortage and have no trouble sterilizing our equipment from here on out.”

“That’s good news, Dr. Lukas,” Ginny says. “Sounds like everything is going well out here.”

“It sure is, ma’am.”

“Sounds like you have everything under control,” Ginny says, her voice sharpening.

“Yes. Yes, ma’am,” Dr. Lukas replies quickly.

Ginny hums. “Let’s try to keep it that way, okay?” she says. “I’ll be in touch.”

*

Al spends almost the entire day in the infirmary with Alicia. Ramsey comes and goes, checks on Alicia’s leg, brings meals. Something about the doctor’s demeanor is off, but neither Alicia nor Al bother to ask, even though they both notice. Ramsey doesn’t say anything about Al having to make herself useful, and Todd doesn’t show up to force Al to leave. Alicia doesn’t complain about being confined to a bed when Al’s in it with her. At least, she doesn’t complain as much as she would’ve if she’d been left alone.

They’re left in relative peace, apart from Ramsey coming and going like clockwork, until late that night. Alicia’s asleep, and Al’s just dropping off when the doors fly open, banging against the wall. Al startles enough to jolt Alicia awake, and Al instinctively reaches for her weapon. Al’s expecting Ramsey and nearly mouths off until her eyes land on Ginny. The aggressive words die in her throat, and she waits for Ginny to explain her abrupt entrance.

“I’ve got an assignment for you, Al,” Ginny announces.

“I thought you said I didn’t have to start yet.”

“Well, I changed my mind,” Ginny says. She doesn’t smile. “It’ll be simple, I promise. Just need you to follow me around the Lanes with a camera. We start at sunrise.”

Ginny doesn’t wait for Al to respond. Al’s too dumbfounded to think of anything to say, anyway. Ginny turns and leaves, the door swinging behind her.

“What do you think that’s about?” Alicia asks.

“I have no idea,” Al says. “How am I supposed to know when to wake up?”

“She’ll come get you,” Alicia says. “Let’s just go back to sleep.”

Al doesn’t bother to tell her that she hasn’t slept a wink, just nods and eases herself back down behind Alicia. Even though Al had been on the verge of sleep before Ginny’s arrival, Al finds herself unable to even keep her eyes closed. Alicia breathes steadily, chest rising and falling beneath Al’s arm. But Al lies awake for hours, forehead resting against Alicia’s upper back, worrying over what Ginny might want her to film.

*

“Why’d you kill him?”

Ginny grunts, having been moments away from being completely asleep. And Ginny has never had much problem getting to sleep or staying asleep, especially since she all but eliminated the threat of being eaten alive overnight by building a group of secure settlements. Ginny rolls onto her back, buying herself a few seconds to return to full consciousness, before she grumbles, “Hmm? Why did I kill who?”

Ginny hears Dr. Ramsey inhale sharply. “Morgan,” she answers. “Why did you kill him?”

Ginny blinks in surprise. It occurs to her then that maybe this question has been keeping Dr. Ramsey up at night. Ginny has to think back to the night she killed Morgan – just a few nights ago, though it feels like a lot longer – and remembers shooting him dead in front of Dr. Ramsey. She should’ve controlled herself better, should’ve spared the woman from having to witness that mess. Ginny shouldn’t have let her emotions get in the way of her decision making.

“We don’t need the kind of trouble he’d cause,” Ginny answers.

“He didn’t do anything,” Dr. Ramsey argues. Anyone else would’ve been disciplined for talking back. Not executed, of course, but punished in another way. They’d be slapped with garbage duty over the overnight patrol shift. But this isn’t just anyone. This is Dr. Ramsey, and her value as a doctor has nothing to do with Ginny’s soft spot for her. Though there are no feelings. None at all. Ginny holds onto this like it’s going to prevent things from going too far, like it negates the fact that Ginny can’t sleep in her own bed for a few nights at the Lanes. She tells herself she bends the rules for Dr. Ramsey because she has the power to do so, not because there’s anything impeding her judgment.

“Sure he did,” Ginny replies. “He went stomping around our land, attracting the wrong sorts of people close to our settlements. He’d stir up even more trouble here. He’d never be able to abide by the rules. He’s the type that would’ve tried to challenge my position as the leader of the Pioneers.”

Dr. Ramsey is quiet for a long time. So long, Ginny has to turn her head to the side and see if she’s fallen asleep. But she hasn’t. She’s staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought, apparently.

“What?” Ginny prompts.

“Don’t you think it – we – could be different?” Dr. Ramsey questions.

Ginny snorts. “Sure we _could_ be different, but why should we? This is what works. It produces results.”

“You worried about Morgan stirring up trouble, but you aren’t even concerned about Alicia,” Dr. Ramsey says. “Madison struggled to follow the rules. Don’t you remember, at the beginning, how she kept pushing you to allow her to search for her kids? How she kept questioning your authority?”

“Maddie knows where the line is, and she doesn’t cross it,” Ginny retorts. “And I told her, we’d find her kids, and we sure did.”

“Her son is dead.”

“That has nothing to do with us,” Ginny says. “And her daughter is alive. That should be enough for her.”

“You think anything will ever be enough for Madison?” Dr. Ramsey asks.

“What are you implying?” Ginny questions in return. Ginny sits up and reaches for the lamp on the bedside table, switches it on so the room is cast under a yellow glow.

“I’m just trying to understand your thought process,” Dr. Ramsey says weakly.

“No. You’re fretting over the death of a man who doesn’t matter,” Ginny says. She doesn’t lie back down, staring over at Dr. Ramsey. Dr. Ramsey’s eyes don’t leave the ceiling. She’s got gorgeous green eyes. Her eyes were the first thing Ginny had noticed about her when she’d joined the Pioneers, even though they serve as a painful reminder of the fiancé Ginny never got the chance to marry. Dr. Ramsey’s eyes are perhaps the one similarity she shares with Ginny’s fiancé.

_Landon. His name was Landon._

“Who are you to decide who matters and who doesn’t?” Dr. Ramsey asks quietly.

“Really? You’re going to pick this fight now? At –” Ginny pauses to check the alarm clock on the bedside table, “One in the morning? After I’ve had a _long_ day?”

“Yeah, well, I’ve had a long day, too,” Dr. Ramsey snaps. “And now I’m stuck _here_ , at the absolute _worst_ settlement, so I can look after Madison’s daughter, because stupid fucking _Eric_ had to go and shoot her. Do you know what kind of stress that puts on me? People die for a lot less than a fucking gunshot wound, and you pretty much forced me to guarantee that Alicia would live.”

“Alicia is perfectly fine, thanks to you,” Ginny says. “And your stay here is only temporary, until Alicia can be safely transferred to Paradise Ridge.”

“And that’ll just fix everything, right?” Dr. Ramsey says sarcastically. “Open your eyes, Virginia. Reuniting Alicia with Madison will just be the start of your problems.”

“What do you know that I don’t?” Ginny asks.

“Know? Oh, I don’t know anything for sure. But Tom and Janis defecting wasn’t some anomaly. It was just the beginning.” On that cryptic note, Dr. Ramsey tears her eyes away from the ceiling, and she turns her back to Ginny. “Please turn the lamp off,” Dr. Ramsey adds, and Ginny is too dumbfounded to do anything but obey.

Ginny doesn’t go back to sleep.

*

Al must fall asleep at some point, because the next thing she’s aware of, Ginny bursts into the infirmary once more, hat on her head, signature smile on her face. Her face is still marred by the suspicious and unexplained welt. The first thing Al thinks is _she does_ not _look well rested._

“Good morning, Al,” Ginny greets, as cheerfully as ever. She looks like she got maybe two minutes of sleep, maximum. Maybe she drank an entire pot of coffee, Al muses. Maybe that’s how she’s functioning and even smiling as if they’re friends. “You ready to go?”

“I – sure? I need my –”

“We’ll make a stop at the call center to get all your equipment,” Ginny cuts in.

“What’s this video for, anyway?” Al asks. She carefully detangles her limbs from Alicia’s without waking her and slides off the bed.

“I think it’s time we tell the people out there the truth about us,” Ginny says. “Tell them what exactly we’re trying to build here. Like I said, I just need you to follow me. I’ll do all the talking.”

The walk to the call center is made in silence, Al trailing a few feet behind Ginny. Ginny holds the door for Al and motions for her to go in and retrieve her things. Oddly enough, Ginny doesn’t follow her. Al locates her camera and pockets a few blank tapes, just in case Ginny’s a talker (she is, and Al doesn’t expect Ginny to keep track of the length of the video). Al pauses, staring down at the desk and radio in the room. She glances to the door, but Ginny’s still outside of the room, not even in her line of sight.

Al slowly picks the piece of paper up off the desk, folds it a few times, and slips it into her breast pocket. Al loads a blank tape into the camera and steps out of the call center.

“So?” Al questions, squinting against the bright morning sunlight. “Where are we filming this thing?”

Ginny smiles thinly. Al’s eyes hone in on the bags under Ginny’s eyes, and Al bets Ginny’s tolerance for bullshit today will be extremely low. “I’m going to walk and talk, Al. You just keep that camera on me, okay?”

Al smiles wryly and turns the camera on. “Yes, ma’am.”

*

“Where’s Al?”

Hayley grunts. “Good morning to you, too,” she mutters. She looks…maybe rough isn’t the word, considering she looks like a supermodel on a regular day, but now she looks like a model who hasn’t gotten any sleep. Her hair is haphazardly pulled back, and the bags under her eyes are noticeable. “She’s with Ginny,” Hayley finally answers. “How’s your leg feeling?”

“Can’t even tell I’ve been shot,” Alicia lies. She winces when Hayley’s fingertips press too close to the wound. “Okay, so maybe it’s sore,” Alicia says. “So what? I was shot. Give me a break.”

“How sore?” Hayley asks.

“What?”

“Do you think you can put weight on it yet?”

Alicia blinks. “Yes,” she says. Another lie. Alicia thinks she needs another dose of pain pills first, but she doesn’t say this. “So should I try?”

Hayley takes a step back and motions Alicia forward. Alicia eagerly swings her legs off the edge of the bed, trying her best not to let her face reflect any pain she feels. Besides, it really is just sore. This pain isn’t anything like the pain she’d felt when it first happened. Alicia slides off the end of the bed, making sure she lands with most of her weight on her good foot, but the moment she puts any weight on her other leg, it starts to buckle. Luckily, Hayley seems to anticipate this result and catches her with ease, lowering Alicia back to the bed.

“Yeah, okay,” Hayley says. “So you can’t put any weight on your leg.”

“Just give me some pills,” Alicia argues. “Then I’ll be able to take it.”

Hayley shakes her head. “No more pills. But I can get the crutches, and we can try that.”

Alicia nods. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

“You’ve got a lot of enthusiasm for first thing in the morning,” Hayley comments. She goes to the closet in the back of the room and pulls out a set of crutches.

“I need to see my mom,” Alicia says. “And I’m so tired of being stuck in this room, with mostly you as my company. No offense. You’re not that bad. I just mean –”

“I get it,” Hayley interrupts. She shrugs the comment off. “You’re just like her,” Hayley adds, handing the crutches off to Alicia. “Your mom,” she clarifies.

“In some ways, maybe,” Alicia admits reluctantly. She takes the crutches and inches her way off the edge of the bed again, starting with her good foot.

“It’s complicated?” Hayley guesses.

“Something like that.” Alicia bites down on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from saying _we aren’t friends, so this is none of your business_. Using the crutches for support, Alicia pulls herself up, doing her best to keep her bad leg from touching the floor.

“Got it?” Hayley asks.

“Yeah. I think.”

“Give it a shot. Try not to fall.”

“Obviously,” Alicia snorts. She takes a shaky step, but she doesn’t collapse. She keeps herself upright, even with Hayley hovering around her. “I won’t fall,” Alicia assures her. “I broke my ankle in high school and had crutches for a while. I’ve got this.”

“A broken ankle is different from a gunshot wound.”

“Well, yeah, but the way you use crutches doesn’t really change.”

Hayley hums, watching Alicia carefully as she maneuvers her way around the room. “Take it easy,” Hayley advises.

“I’m fine,” Alicia insists. “Besides, nothing will happen with you lingering in my personal space.”

“Well, I can’t linger in your space all day, every day,” Hayley retorts. “So if you get tired or need a rest, you better take it. You seem alright, Alicia, but I’m not willing to die for you. No offense.”

Alicia blinks. Alicia stops to gauge if that was a joke or a serious statement. Hayley doesn’t smile, doesn’t laugh. Their eyes lock. Hayley is being completely serious. Alicia thinks that might be the most honest thing Hayley has ever said in her presence. “None taken,” Alicia finally says. Her eyes search Hayley’s face carefully, but the doctor’s expression is impassive. Like staring at a brick wall. “And before you get any ideas, I’m not willing to die for you, either.”

Hayley, much to Alicia’s surprise, cracks a smile. “So we’re on the same page,” Hayley says. She takes a few steps back, out of Alicia’s personal space, and picks a clipboard up off the counter. “Consider yourself discharged,” Hayley says. “I’ll show you to your room, and I expect you’ll continue to rest and to call me if anything happens. Even if it’s probably nothing, you should still bother me. Like I said, I don’t want to die for you.”

“You got it,” Alicia agrees. “But it’s not infected, and if I take it slow, I shouldn’t have any problems, right?”

“Hopefully everything will go well,” Hayley says. She scribbles her signature on a few pages then motions for Alicia to move closer to her. Alicia makes her way over, slowly, crutches clunking against the tile, and Hayley pushes a nearby stool over so Alicia can sit. Alicia eases herself down, leans the crutches against the bed behind her, and accepts the clipboard, signing where Hayley indicates.

“What’s the point of these forms?” Alicia asks. “What’s the point of having paperwork at all?”

“Believe it or not, it keeps things organized and running smoothly,” Hayley answers. “And Ginny’s a neat freak and likes it this way, so we do it. But here’s a piece of advice: try not to ask questions.”

“At all or with specific people?” Alicia asks, just to see how Hayley’s going to react. She thinks maybe Hayley will smile or roll her eyes, but she just stares at Alicia, dead serious once again.

“Don’t ask questions of anyone you don’t trust,” Hayley says. “Unless it’s operational shit, like where to find your schedule for your patrol shifts.”

“Wait. Where do I find that?”

“Worry about that when I clear you to work.”

*

Ginny spends the entire morning walking and talking. Al follows her around the entire settlement three times. They stop in strategic locations. The kitchen. The crops. The infirmary, which is empty by the time they get there at eleven. Al frowns when she sees that the bed Alicia has occupied the last couple of nights is completely empty. She has to be in their room, Al knows, but it throws her for a moment. She loses track of what Ginny had been saying, but so far, everything has been rather innocuous. No blatant lies. It’s like Ginny’s giving the audience a tour, explaining how things run, rather than what the Pioneers are all about. That makes sense, though. Showing an audience how their settlements operate on a day to day basis is a lot safer than explaining their survival ideology.

Though Al supposes that the ideology video was already put out there, before they arrived, even if it was full of shit. But Al keeps her mouth shut, follows Ginny around, films her every move. It’s one in the afternoon before Ginny calls it quits.

“Nice job,” Ginny says. “Just leave the tapes next to the radio in the call center, okay? We’ll edit it all later.”

Al nods and heads to the call center, unsupervised, to leave her tapes and camera. It’s strange, not labeling the tapes, but she wasn’t told to label them. She exits the call center, intending on asking Ginny what their next move is, but Ginny is gone. So Al does the next logical thing and returns to 5A, where she knows she’ll find Alicia. And she does find her, sprawled out on the couch in the modest living room, crutches lying on the floor beside her. Alicia’s holding a book over her face, flips a page as Al shuts the door.

“Hey!” Alicia exclaims. She throws the book onto the empty coffee table and pushes herself up into a sitting position, though thankfully she doesn’t attempt to get to her feet. “How’d it go?”

Al shrugs. “She didn’t say anything interesting, frankly. But –” Al pauses and pulls the folded piece of paper out of her shirt pocket. It’s been weighing her down since she first took it. “I grabbed this out of the call center,” Al says quietly. She crosses the room to the couch and sits on the coffee table across from Alicia. Alicia’s eyes don’t leave Al’s face as she makes her way over.

“What is that?” Alicia asks. Now, her eyes do leave Al’s face, flicker over to the locked door, as if someone’s going to burst in and bust them. As if they’re going to be dragged out in front of the entire settlement and executed.

“It’s a list,” Al says. She unfolds it, hands trembling slightly. “A list of all of us, where we’ve been relocated to,” Al elaborates. “It was just sitting on the desk in the call center. I couldn’t leave it there. I had to know.”

“I would’ve done the same thing,” Alicia assures her. “So it’s just a list of us?”

“It’s been corrected,” Al points out. She shows Alicia the list, index finger pressed against the spot under the Paradise Ridge category where _Alicia Clark_ is scratched out, rewritten under the Imperial Lanes category instead. “I’m assuming this list is updated then.”

“They’ll notice that it’s missing,” Alicia says. “They might be able to figure out that it was you.”

“But they can’t prove it,” Al replies. She lets Alicia take the list from her, watches Alicia’s eyes rake down the list, absorb the information. “It seems like they needed proof,” Al continues. “I bet they suspected Bolton was stealing from them but couldn’t prove it until you pointed it out and Ramsey checked.”

“Maybe,” Alicia says. “Is it worth the risk?”

“You think I should return it?”

Their eyes lock. “Maybe,” Alicia repeats. “We can copy it down somewhere else, keep it hidden, and then you can throw this back on the desk. Maybe they’ll suspect that you took it, but they won’t be able to prove anything, especially if it’s there.”

Al nods. “There are supplies in the spare room.”

She leaves and comes back with a notebook and a pen. Alicia takes it from her, transcribes the list onto the first page of the notebook, then rips it free. Al takes the original list back, returns it to her pocket.

“Wait,” Alicia says.

“What?”

“Morgan,” Alicia mutters. She double checks her page. “His name isn’t on this anywhere.”

“No, that isn’t possible,” Al says. She pulls out the original, scans over the list again. And again. A third time. “Why isn’t he on here?”

“Maybe they forgot?”

“You really think Ginny let an oversight like that happen?” Al questions.

“No.”

“Whoever wrote this list went to the trouble of crossing you off under Paradise Ridge and rewriting you under the Lanes. There’s a reason Morgan isn’t on here,” Al says.

“We can’t ask,” Alicia blurts. “You can’t ask. Not anyone, and especially not Ginny. Hayley warned me about asking unwarranted questions.”

Al’s expression darkens, but she nods. “Whatever the reason is, it can’t be good,” she says.

“Maybe he’s okay,” Alicia says. “Maybe this really was just a mistake. We have no reason to believe anything bad happened to him, right?”

Al hesitates. “I don’t know,” she says. “But you’re right. We have nothing that proves anything bad happened. And we need to keep our heads down, especially because I snatched this stupid list.”

“Maybe we can ask my mom,” Alicia says.

“You trust her not to pass anything onto Ginny?”

Alicia’s teeth sink into her lower lip. “I trust her, okay? She won’t do anything that’ll hurt us.”

“Okay,” Al agrees. “We’ll ask her as soon as we can. In person. When it’s just us.”

Alicia nods. “I can walk on crutches now. I can ask Hayley if we can set up a time to see her soon.”

“We’ll try,” Al says. “And maybe she’ll have some answers for us.”

*

Wes and Luci drop by after the work day ends. It’s weird, being on a schedule again, but Luci sort of doesn’t mind the structure. And she likes farming. She’s liked it since the stadium, when her and Nick decided that growing food would be mainly their responsibility. It’s relieving to see Alicia up, even if it’s on crutches. Luci’s glad to see her out of the infirmary – and she’s glad she can just run across the hall to see Alicia now. With Nick gone and all their friends spread across four different settlements, Alicia’s the closest friend Luci has left.

“You feeling alright?” Wes asks as Alicia manages to get to her feet without any assistance, even though Al hovers in her space, prepared to act if she’s needed.

“Yeah,” Alicia says. “My leg’s a little sore, but I’m getting used to this.”

“Did you guys eat dinner yet?” Luci asks.

“I was just about to get something going,” Al says.

“Let me,” Luci offers. “Wes and I haven’t eaten yet, either.” Al smiles, but then she and Alicia share a look that causes Luci’s heart to drop into her stomach. “What is it?” Luci asks.

“What’s what?” Al questions.

“That look. What’s that look about?”

“We have something to tell you,” Al says. Alicia pulls the list out and explains everything, points out how Morgan’s name is missing, how unlikely it is that Ginny would’ve missed something like that.

“It could just be a mistake,” Wes says.

“Or it’s very intentional,” Luci argues.

“We’re planning to ask my mom,” Alicia informs. “Whenever we can see her in person, alone.”

“Is that a good idea?” Wes asks.

“I trust her,” Alicia insists.

“I trust her, too,” Luci jumps in. “If anyone can help us here, it’s her.” They all stand in silence for a few moments, and Luci wrings her hands together in front of her. “I’m going to start dinner,” she announces. “Alicia, you should sit down. Stay off your leg as much as possible.”

“Yes, Mom,” Alicia says, rolling her eyes. Still, Al pulls a chair out for her, and Alicia takes a seat at the kitchen table, handing her crutches off to Wes to set aside for later. Al and Wes join her after Luci declines their offers to help her. It isn’t until the food is on the table, and Luci’s seated between Alicia and Wes, that Luci truly feels the loss of the rest of their friends. She’s been coasting through these last several days, spending most of her waking hours worrying about Alicia, and now that Alicia’s undeniably recovering, Luci feels the crushing weight of their friends’ absence.

“Luce,” Alicia says, swallowing her mouthful. “You okay?”

Luci startles. “What? Oh, I’m fine.”

Alicia doesn’t look convinced, but Al’s fingertips press against Alicia’s wrist, and Alicia’s prying gaze turns from Luci’s face to Al’s. It’s a suspicious gesture, maybe. Or maybe Luci overanalyzes it and sees what she’s hoping to see. But Al’s fingers linger against Alicia’s arm, and for whatever reason, this is the gesture that finally causes the pieces to start to click into place in Luci’s brain.

“Talking to Madison is our first step,” Al says, distracting Luci from her train of thought.

“First step?” Wes prompts.

Al nods. “Our first step toward getting all of our friends back and getting the hell out of this place.”

“Yes,” Luci agrees quickly. “We’ll get them all back. We’ll figure something out, and Madison will help.”

Madison has to help, Luci tells herself. They have no other options.

*

After last night’s conversation, Hayley doesn’t expect the knock at her door that night. It’s sort of late, just after midnight. Hayley’s last couple hours have been spent at her dining room table, paperwork spread all across the table, as she tries to get herself caught up on five days’ worth of unfinished work. There’s always something to do, even if a good chunk of her time the last few days has been taken up by Alicia Clark and friends. Though she can’t blame this entire stack of paperwork on Alicia.

Hayley sighs to herself, drops her pen onto her current page, and gets up, pulling her shirt down. Frankly, Hayley is exhausted. She barely slept last night, and she knows Ginny didn’t sleep more than a handful of minutes right before the sun rose. Hayley was in and out of sleep, dropping off just to experience an unpleasant dream then jolting back into consciousness. She shouldn’t have said so much to Ginny, though Ginny would have to be an idiot not to see what’s happening right under her nose. Tom and Janis are just the tip of the iceberg. Hell, Hayley doesn’t even know how big that iceberg is. She just knows it exists, and she’s afraid the Pioneers might be the Titanic: unable to stop themselves from hitting what’s right in front of them.

Hayley answers the door, lips pressed into a thin line, arms crossed over her chest. In the half second before her eyes land on the person in the hall, she’s afraid maybe it’s one of Alicia’s friends coming to summon her, afraid maybe something horrible has happened. But no, sure enough, it’s Ginny, because Ginny hasn’t been able to sleep alone when Hayley’s available recently.

And Hayley’s no idiot. She knows Ginny isn’t the _feelings_ type. At least, this Ginny isn’t. Maybe there was a version of Ginny beforehand that was different, but that Ginny is out of reach. So Hayley knows what their arrangement is, even if Ginny has been more and more inclined to blur the line, to cross boundaries she wouldn’t have crossed even just a few weeks ago. Hayley doesn’t remember exactly the last time she slept alone, whereas just last month, Ginny only sporadically showed up on her doorstep.

Ginny offers her a small, gentle smile. Hayley’s eyes go straight to the welt on her face. It’s healing, sure. It’s more of a greenish-yellow color than it is purple, but it’s still a reminder of what Ginny did to Morgan Jones. She didn’t even give him a chance. The memory replays in Hayley’s mind, just a quick flash of a memory. A loud gunshot. The sinking feeling in Hayley’s chest as Morgan fell to the dirt, unmoving. Hayley knows Ginny can be ruthless, but it’s one thing to know it and another to witness it. And there’s some level of cognitive dissonance that comes with this, too. Everything else Hayley has personally seen from Ginny has contradicted what she did to Morgan. At least when she does something questionable, she usually has a Pioneer rule to back up her conduct. This time, though – there is no reasonable explanation, no way to reconcile the Ginny that Hayley thought she knew and the Ginny she witnessed the night the Gulch fell.

For a while, they both stand there, staring at each other. Ginny’s smile eventually fades, but she waits, figuring Hayley will break first. Of course she will. She always has.

“What’s up?” Hayley finally asks, voice sounding flatter than she’d intended.

“If you don’t want me here, you can just say so.”

Damn it. She knows Hayley can’t say no. Hayley just rolls her eyes and steps out of the way, leaving enough space for Ginny to enter the room. Hayley locks the door behind her, watches as Ginny removes her hat and sets it on the kitchen counter. Ginny wanders over to the table, eyes dragging across the paperwork covering almost the entire table.

“You’re a little behind?” Ginny guesses.

“I haven’t had a lot of time to finish all my work,” Hayley says. “Not when you have me babysitting Madison’s daughter.”

“You don’t have to do it at midnight.”

Hayley’s head tilts to the side. “Then when am I going to catch up?” she questions. “I’m pretty sure if I sit in here all day to finish paperwork, I’m going to get a visit from someone. Probably you. Now that Dr. Bolton’s not here, I’m the only person capable of running the infirmary. What happens if someone falls off the roof and I’m here, doing paperwork?”

Ginny sighs heavily and sheds her jacket, laying it over the back of one of the chairs, like usual. Her boots come off next, and she leaves them under the same chair. “I will find a replacement,” Ginny says. “Someone from Westfield will take your spot once Alicia has been relocated to Paradise Ridge.”

“Good,” Hayley says. If Ginny’s pushing boundaries between them, Hayley’s going to push right back. If Ginny wants to act like this is some unspoken relationship, full of unspoken rules, then Hayley can act like it, too. Hayley has always been good at reading people; it’s part of what made her a good doctor. And there’s no one left alive who’s better at reading Ginny than Hayley.

“I don’t know how long it’ll take,” Ginny admits.

“As long as I’m not here forever. I can’t stand this place.”

“No. Not forever.”

Hayley nods and holds back on the next questions that threaten to tumble out. _Are you going to stay here as long as I’m here? Is that why you haven’t returned back to Paradise Ridge permanently? Can’t sleep alone anymore? How long are you going to trust Madison to run Paradise Ridge unsupervised? Are you scared yet? Do you see it, too? The way things are changing? The way people are acting?_

“Good,” Hayley says.

“Should I leave you to finish up?” Ginny asks. It’s a loaded question, and they both know it. Hayley walks back to her spot, eyes scanning the page she’d been working on, and she finishes it off quickly before gathering all her papers up. Hayley stalls. For what reason, she isn’t sure. She could just say she’s tired. Hell, she _is_ tired. Exhausted, even. And it’s already midnight, and she’ll have to be up by eight to check on Alicia, and if she’s lucky, she’ll squeeze in a nap tomorrow, but she probably won’t be able to try to sleep until two if –

“You know,” Hayley says, dropping the neat stack of papers onto the center of the table, “I think I just need to sleep tonight.”

Ginny exhales in relief, catching Hayley off guard. “Me too,” Ginny agrees. Their eyes meet, and Hayley does her best to interpret the information Ginny’s unguarded expression is giving off.

“Okay,” Hayley says slowly. She nods toward the hall. “Let’s go.”

*

“God, this mattress is amazing,” Alicia says. “And the pillows here! The pillows in the infirmary were terrible.”

Al laughs, nods in agreements. Luci and Wes had stayed to play card games with them and tell Alicia more about what the settlement is like. Alicia’s kind of disappointed that everything sounds super boring. Though she supposes that’s a good thing. Boring means no one is dying – or being executed by the settlement’s leadership. Boring means they’ll continue to eat and have readily available water. Boring means the dead can’t breach their walls. She should be thankful for boring. She hasn’t had very many boring days since before the dead started walking.

“Yeah, it’s a real step up,” Al says. She kicks her boots off, sheds her jeans, then her shirt, leaving her in her underwear and a tank top. There’s no hint of self-consciousness from Al as she flings herself down on the opposite side of the bed, exhaling heavily.

“Long day?”

“Every day is long,” Al answers.

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” Alicia huffs. “At least you get to go out and see the sun. I’ve been trapped indoors for days.”

“You’re not missing much, trust me,” Al says. “I spent half the day with Ginny. Would you like to trade? I’d be happy to lay around all day long, doing whatever I feel like.”

Alicia fights a smile, shoving at Al’s arm. “Excuse you, I am injured,” Alicia says. They laugh tiredly together, and Al catches Alicia’s hand in her own before Alicia can pull away. Al links their fingers together, and Alicia exhales contentedly, letting her eyes close.

“Are you going to ask Ramsey tomorrow?” Al asks.

“Hmm?”

“Are you going to ask her to meet up with your mom?”

“Yeah,” Alicia says. “In the morning. I bet she’ll stop by. She’s kind of freaked out about the idea of me dying.”

“Why?”

“Sounds like she thinks if I die, they’ll kill her.”

Al hums. “Maybe they will. But you aren’t going to die.”

“I know,” Alicia says. She tightens her grip on Al’s hand. “But that’s a lot of pressure to put on someone. I could’ve easily gotten an infection. I can probably still get one, if I’m not careful.”

“You’ll be careful.”

“This isn’t about me, Al,” Alicia sighs. She opens her eyes, turns her head to meet Al’s gaze. “This is about how they treat people here. And maybe we can say it doesn’t matter if Hayley dies, but it could just as easily be us. Who knows what kind of offenses are punished with execution? Who knows what other punishments the Pioneers have lined up for people who don’t obey?”

“We have nothing to worry about yet,” Al assures her. She squeezes Alicia’s hand back, but the troubled look doesn’t leave Alicia’s face.

“How could my mom go along with this?” Alicia wonders aloud.

Al shifts around a bit, exhaling, then answers, “Maybe by the time she found out what it was like, it was too late.” When Alicia doesn’t say anything, Al continues, “Look, Alicia, Madison said she owed the Pioneers everything for saving her life when she escaped the stadium. We don’t know what they might’ve threatened her with. But I do know that Madison knew staying with them gave her the best shot possible to find you. She wants what’s best for you. And she’ll help us figure this all out, okay?”

“Okay,” Alicia says quietly.

“We can worry if Madison tells us she wholeheartedly supports the Pioneers,” Al says. “Until that happens – and I highly doubt it will – we just have to be patient. Talk to Ramsey. Get something set up with Madison. We’ll go from there.”

“Good thing you’re here,” Alicia says. “You’re level-headed.”

Al grins. “You can’t shoot your way out of every situation, Alicia.”

“I can try,” Alicia jokes.

“No. I won’t let you.”

“Right, right,” Alicia snorts. “I forgot. You’re afraid of my mom. A former high school guidance counselor.”

“Your mom’s a scary lady,” Al replies. “She knocked me out the first time we met. Stole my shit.”

“You should’ve been faster.”

“She pointed a gun at me. Almost shot me by accident.”

“But did you die?”

They both laugh again, and Al detaches her hand from Alicia’s and shoves at her arm. “You aren’t funny,” Al says before they’re overcome with another wave of tired giggling.

“I’m hilarious,” Alicia replies. “And don’t worry. I won’t let my mom kill you.”

“Like you could stop her.”

Alicia rolls her eyes. “I obviously can. Very easily.”

“How?” Al asks.

“You’re doubting my ability to give my mom the puppy eyes and beg for her to spare your life?”

“I’m doubting Madison’s ability to listen to your pleas,” Al teases.

“I’ll just tell her I don’t want to live without you,” Alicia dismisses. “She won’t come near you.” Al’s eyebrows raise in surprise, but Alicia doesn’t acknowledge the significance of her words. Doesn’t even seem to fully understand what she’s just said. “Why’d you get so quiet all of a sudden?” Alicia asks.

“No reason, I – that was just very sweet of you.”

Alicia freezes, replays the last few seconds in her head. Her jaw falls open as the impact of her words hit her. “Oh. I – I mean, you know – it’s nothing,” she says weakly.

“It’s not nothing.”

“No, it’s not nothing,” Alicia admits. “But you don’t have to make a big deal out of it.”

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal,” Al agrees. Her eyes flick over to the clock on the bedside table. “It’s getting late,” she comments. “We should probably try to get some sleep before the warden comes to wake us.”

Alicia cracks a small smile. “Yeah, okay. But watch my leg.”

“I know.”

Alicia clears her throat. “I’ll, um, see you in the morning.”

“Yeah.”

Alicia’s face heats up. She can feel Al’s eyes watching her. “Don’t forget to return that list!” Alicia blurts out of nowhere.

Al chuckles. “I won’t forget.”

“Okay, then stop staring at me.”

“Okay,” Al agrees. Alicia feels the bed shift as Al turns her back to her. “Oh, and Alicia?” Al says over her shoulder.

“What?”

“I don’t want to live without you either.”

Alicia inhales sharply. Her heart beats a little stronger in her chest, but a smile flickers on her face. “Good to know,” she says softly. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“And you should probably fill Luci in,” Al says. “About us. I think she’s starting to figure it out, anyway, so you should just tell her.”

“Me?”

“You’ve known her longer,” Al replies. “So yeah. You. Goodnight.”

*

Alicia groans as she returns to consciousness. “What?” Alicia grumbles. Al continues to shake her shoulder. “I’m up. What?” Alicia complains, rolling onto her back.

Al waits until Alicia’s eyes are open, until Alicia meets her gaze, before she says, “I’m gonna run to the call center and return the list, okay? Ginny shouldn’t come looking for me for at least another hour. If, for whatever reason, she shows up before I’m back, tell her I went for a morning walk, okay?”

“What if she asks why?” Alicia questions, suddenly wide awake.

“Tell her we had an argument, and I needed to clear my head, or something,” Al says. “It doesn’t matter. Just – you better be a convincing liar.”

“And if she sees right through me?”

“Just stick with it,” Al tells her. “If we’re lucky, nothing will happen.”

Alicia nods. “Okay,” she agrees. “You just want me to stall?”

“Yes,” Al says. “Exactly.” She leans down to kiss Alicia quickly then double checks that the list is in her pocket. “I’ll be back,” she promises.

“Hurry.”

“I will.”

Al steps out into the hall, gently closing the door behind her. She straightens her shirt out, runs her fingers through her hair, and skids to a stop when the door to room 3B flies open. Al quickly wipes the deer-in-headlights look from her face as Ginny steps out of 3B – definitely not her room – with her hat and jacket in her hand. As the door shuts, Ginny’s eyes fall on Al, and Ginny’s back straightens.

“Al!” Ginny exclaims. “What – I didn’t expect you to be up so soon!”

“I thought I’d go for a walk,” Al says calmly. She eyes the apartment door, racking her brain to determine who exactly lives in 3B. Ginny’s hand hasn’t released the doorknob yet. “Unless that’s not something we’re allowed to do here.”

Ginny lets go of the doorknob and waves her hand in dismissal. “No, please. Take walks. Just don’t disturb anything.”

“Of course not.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a few matters to take care of before we get to work today,” Ginny says.

Al nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

She watches Ginny take off down the hall in the opposite direction of the call center. Al knows there’s a possibility someone else will be in the call center, but she tells herself it’s too early. The sun is barely rising. And sure enough, the call center is empty. Al replaces the list without any trouble, and she does a lap around the settlement, just to make sure the people that are already up and out see her.

As Al’s walking back up the hall to her room, the door to 3B opens once more. This time, though, Ramsey steps out, yawning, wearing shorts and a tank top. Ramsey startles as Al walks past, and Al barely manages to say, “Hey,” through the shock of discovering that Ginny definitely has a thing with Ramsey.

“Hey,” Ramsey says faintly. “I’ll – tell Alicia I’ll be there in a few, okay?”

“Yeah,” Al agrees. “Take your time.” Ramsey nods and heads off in the same direction Ginny had gone. Al rushes back inside to find Alicia just finishing getting dressed. “You are never going to believe this,” Al says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An end is in sight, somewhere. We will get there, my friends. Hopefully just a couple more chapters will be enough to wrap this all up. Thank you all so much for your continued support. It really means a lot to me. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible! And don't forget, you can always find me on tumblr at blinkaftermidnight.


	21. it's for your own good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry about the delays! Midterms and family things, you know? I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but I'm no professional writer, and I need to move things forward, so be gentle lol. Hopefully just a few more chapters after this, and this story will be officially wrapped up.

“No way,” Alicia gasps.

“Yes!” Al exclaims.

“No,” Alicia repeats. “Hayley and _Ginny_? Not possible.”

“I’m telling you, I saw it.”

Alicia shakes her head. “Ginny could’ve just spent the night on the couch?”

“Please. You really think that’s what happened?”

Alicia hesitates. “I don’t know,” she says. “Hayley seems so…nice. And Ginny seems so…not nice.”

“Nice and not nice?” Al says flatly.

Alicia sighs as Al takes a seat on the bed next to her. “I mean, Hayley seems like a decent person. She _did_ save my life, technically. And Ginny – I mean, we both know what she can be like. There’s no way that they’re… _together_.”

“They both came out of 3B,” Al insists. She pauses. “That could explain why they were so tired yesterday.”

“Gross!”

“I’m just saying,” Al says defensively.

“Well, great,” Alicia grumbles. “What do we do with this information? Blackmailing Ginny seems like a great way to get ourselves killed.”

“Yeah,” Al agrees. “But…we could blackmail Ramsey?”

“No! No blackmail.”

“She’ll be here any minute,” Al points out. “If she doesn’t agree to set something up with Madison, we’re going to tell her we know about her and Ginny.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“It’s worth a shot,” Al argues.

“Let me talk to her first,” Alicia says. “And if I can’t convince her – then we’ll try your stupid plan.” Alicia thinks for a moment. “But what if this isn’t a secret? What if everyone already knows, and we’re just late to the party?”

“You think Ginny spreads her personal business around for all the Pioneers to gossip about?”

“Good point. Okay, but blackmail is our last resort.”

There’s a knock at the door just as Al agrees. Al offers Alicia a hand up, but Alicia waves her off and gets herself up on the crutches on her own. Al accompanies Alicia to the couch then goes to get the door. As expected, Hayley Ramsey’s waiting there, this time dressed in more than just a tank top and shorts. She seems a bit frazzled, though, and she won’t meet Al’s eye. Ginny must have told Ramsey that Al is onto them.

“Hey again,” Al says, just to be a bit of a dick. She finds a little pleasure in the way it makes Ramsey squirm.

“Hey,” Ramsey says. “You mind?”

Al holds her arm out. “Come right in. Alicia, take your pants off; the doctor’s here.”

“Oh my God,” Alicia groans. Al snickers as she shuts the door behind Ramsey. “I shouldn’t have even put pants on,” Alicia complains. Al goes to help Alicia with her pants as Ramsey waits.

“You sleeping okay, Ramsey?” Al questions. “You look a little tired today.”

“I sleep just fine, thank you very much,” Ramsey answers curtly. “What about you? How have you been sleeping, Al?”

Al shrugs as she finally gets Alicia’s pants down enough to expose the gunshot wound. “I sleep great, thanks for asking.”

Alicia shoots Al the _don’t push her_ look, and Al smiles and winks at Alicia. “Go,” Alicia orders.

“Go do what?”

“Take a shower or something.”

“I was gonna wait for you.”

“Don’t,” Alicia says.

Al nods. She gets it. Alicia needs to talk to Ramsey by herself to try to arrange a meeting with Madison, without any more of Al’s smartass comments. But Al’s disappointed she won’t get to mess with the doctor anymore. Ramsey kind of deserves it for choosing someone like Ginny. Ramsey did also choose the Pioneers, so she kind of deserves it regardless of her arrangement with Ginny, as far as Al is concerned.

“Fine,” Al agrees. “I’ll leave you to it.” She points a finger at Ramsey. “But no feeling up my girl.”

“Oh my God!” Alicia exclaims, face burning red. “Please go!”

*

“That was something,” Hayley comments cautiously, watching as Al rounds the corner and disappears into the bathroom. Hayley holds her hands up for a moment as Alicia stares at her, still blushing. “I’m not going to feel you up, I promise.”

Alicia exhales. “I know. She’s just being – overly protective.”

“I get it.”

“Just tell me the wound looks good,” Alicia says. She watches Hayley peel the bandage back, but she can’t bring herself to watch Hayley clean it. It’s looking better and better every day, but still. It’s kind of nasty. Honestly, the fact that Alicia thinks the wound is gross is hilarious, because had it been someone else’s gunshot wound, looking at it wouldn’t bother her. But since it’s her own leg –

“It looks good,” Hayley informs. “It’s healing well. Better than I expected, honestly, given our circumstances.”

“So my leg is healing well and I’m up on crutches,” Alicia says. “When can I see my mom?”

Hayley sighs as she secures another bandage over Alicia’s wound. “Ginny’s heading back into Paradise Ridge first thing in the morning. I’ll talk to her, see if I can get her to take you and Al with her.”

“And Luci,” Alicia adds.

Hayley frowns. “I’ll see what I can do,” she offers. “I’ll let you know tonight.”

Alicia nods. She reaches down and starts working her pants back up, but she’s forced to accept Hayley’s help to get them back where they belong. “Thank you,” Alicia says.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Hayley replies. “I still have to ask Ginny.”

“I’m sure if anyone can get her to agree to do something, it’s you,” Alicia says. Their eyes lock. Hayley stares at her suspiciously, but Alicia just smiles.

“Even I can’t get away with everything, Alicia,” Hayley says. “Make sure Al knows that.”

Alicia’s smile slides. It occurs to her that maybe this entire time, Hayley’s been putting on an act. That if Al’s right, and Hayley and Ginny are a serious thing, that Ginny might’ve put Hayley up to making Alicia feel comfortable enough to say things she shouldn’t. Or maybe Hayley’s a genuinely decent person, like Alicia had assumed, but Alicia has no way to know for sure.

And Hayley _did_ warn her not to ask unwarranted questions, after all.

Alicia can’t help herself. “So, you and Ginny…” she starts, but she trails off as Hayley’s eyebrows shoot up toward her hairline.

“We aren’t going to talk about that,” Hayley says, suddenly flustered. “And whatever Al thinks she knows – tell her to keep it to herself.”

“Why?”

“Trust me, okay? It’s for your own good. I’ll do what I can to get you a meeting with your mom. I’ll be back tonight.”

Alicia hesitates as Hayley starts heading for the door. “Wait!” she calls. Hayley turns back. “You think it’s safe for me to take a walk to the fields?”

*

The walk from the housing complex to the fields isn’t far, but Alicia might as well be trying to walk to Oklahoma. Walking down the hall is one thing, but weaving through the different plots of crops on uneven ground is an entirely different challenge. Luckily, Luci spots her from a distance and rushes over to her side, giving Alicia a bit of a break.

“Alicia! What are you doing?” Luci asks breathlessly.

“I had to see you,” Alicia says weakly. A smile flickers on her face. This is the Luci she remembers from the stadium. Hair pulled back. Dirt smeared on her face, coating her clothes and boots. All that’s missing from this picture is –

“Let’s go sit,” Luci says, laying a gentle hand on Alicia’s upper back. Luci leads them to a bench after she yells to the head farmer, Brant, that she’s taking a break. Brant looks like a career farmer, and Luci says he’s actually very nice in spite of his grumpy face. “Is everything okay?” Luci asks once Alicia’s seated.

“Yeah,” Alicia says.

Luci studies her face intensely, though, then asks, “What happened?”

“I think Hayley can take us to see my mom,” Alicia whispers. There’s no one else around, but better safe than sorry. “Well, Ginny would take us, but Hayley’s going to set it up.”

“When?”

“She’s asking today, and hopefully we’ll be on our way to Paradise Ridge in the morning,” Alicia says.

“That’s great,” Luci says. “What else?”

Alicia hesitates but spills everything Al suspects about Ginny and Hayley. This is Luci, after all, and Alicia’s not about to keep secrets like this from her. Luci listens, nodding the whole time, and she looks vaguely amused by the news.

“So Ginny’s a human being. Go figure,” Luci laughs.

“Yeah, but why would Hayley choose _her_?”

Luci shrugs. “Maybe Ginny has hidden depths.”

Alicia scoffs, and Luci busts out laughing. “Yeah, right,” Alicia snorts.

“Maybe the sex is good.”

“Luci!”

They both dissolve into giggles, like they’re gossiping in high school rather than speculating about a woman who could very much decide to kill them whenever she feels like. Alicia swipes a stray tear away as Luci struggles to breathe normally again, clutching at her chest.

“You looked so scandalized,” Luci wheezes.

“I don’t want to think about that!”

It takes them a few more minutes to pull it back together. Luci’s eyes flick over to where Brant’s standing with three other farmers, inspecting one of the crops, and Alicia figures it’s now or never.

“Hey, Luci,” Alicia says slowly. “There’s actually something else I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

“Okay,” Luci agrees. Then she waits for Alicia to collect her thoughts. Alicia starts to wish she’d prepared a speech or something.

“I mean, maybe you already know,” Alicia says, fumbling over her words. “I think Wes has known for a while, and Al thinks you’re catching on – anyway, Al and I are, like, an official thing. Or whatever.”

Luci grins. “I’ve been suspicious,” she admits, “but it’s good to hear that I was right.” She grasps onto Alicia’s shoulder. “If anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you, Alicia.”

“Don’t make me cry first thing in the morning,” Alicia jokes.

Luci smiles, but her expression turns serious as her eyes shift back over to Brant. “I think I have to go back,” she says. “But we’ll talk soon, okay?”

“Stop by tonight,” Alicia says. “Hayley said she’d come back and fill us in on the plan.”

Luci nods. “I’ll bring Wes,” she says. “His team has just started a new project nearby.”

“Sounds good,” Alicia says. She watches Luci go back to work as she gets herself back up on her crutches. She feels bad that she hasn’t been able to spend as much time with Wes as before since they arrived at the Lanes. To be fair, she’s barely back up on her feet, and she’s had a lot on her mind. It dawns on her on her walk back to her room that maybe it’s weird for him to be around her now, even if he doesn’t want it to be.

*

Alicia gets back to the room as Al’s finishing up breakfast, hair still wet from her shower. “How’d it go?” Al asks.

“Fine,” Alicia says. “I mean, it’s Luci. She’s cool with it. And she’ll be here tonight with Wes.”

Al nods. “Good. We need –”

She’s cut off by a knock at the door, and Al rushes to answer it before Alicia can start to hobble over.

“Good morning, Al,” a chipper voice that can only belong to Ginny says. “We’ve got a lot of work to do today.”

“Yeah, can you give me five minutes to clean up?” Al asks. She glances at the clock on the wall. “You really should, considering you’re five minutes early.”

At that, Ginny pushes her way past Al into the room, eyes seeking out Alicia. Ginny smiles. “Alicia. It’s good to see you up on your feet. Well, your foot.”

“Yeah,” Alicia says warily.

“You’re making progress,” Ginny observes. Al finally gets over the shock and shuts the door, returning to the kitchen to clean up.

“I guess you could say that,” Alicia says. Ginny looks like the same old Ginny. Nothing’s out of place. There’s nothing to indicate that she’s carrying some sort of thing with anyone, let alone with Hayley Ramsey. Ginny seems as relaxed as ever, a pleasant expression plastered on her face. Her eyes don’t seem to shoot daggers at either Alicia or Al, but maybe Ginny’s just very good at controlling things like that.

“I’m sure you’ll be good as new in no time,” Ginny says.

“Ready,” Al declares. That’s the fastest she’s cleaned up ever, probably, and Alicia knows she’s doing it to try to spare her from spending any more time than necessary with Ginny. “You should probably go rest,” she adds to Alicia.

“That was awfully fast, Al,” Ginny says. “You’ve still got – hmm, three more minutes before you officially start, isn’t that right?”

“We can go,” Al grumbles.

“No, I think you should have your three extra minutes.”

Alicia watches Al bite back what would’ve been a dangerous remark and smile thinly instead. Al stands next to Alicia, directly across from Ginny, and Alicia watches Al and Ginny enter into a staring contest. After an uncomfortably awkward twenty seconds passes, Alicia clears her throat.

“So what’re you working on today?” Alicia asks faintly.

“Oh, we’ve got some serious editing on our hands, Alicia,” Ginny answers. Her eyes don’t leave Al’s. She doesn’t even blink. Alicia fidgets, and if she didn’t have to hold onto the crutches to stay upright, she would’ve already grabbed onto Al’s arm to try to get her to back down. “We shot a lot of footage yesterday,” Ginny continues, still unblinking, “and we’re gonna piece it all together today.”

“Sounds about right,” Al agrees.

“Okay, well, I need to shower,” Alicia decides. “So I’ll just…leave you to it.”

“Maybe you should offer your lady a hand, Al,” Ginny suggests.

“You’ve got this under control, don’t you, Alicia?” Al questions.

“I’m fine. Don’t you worry about me,” Alicia answers quickly. “You two just…have fun.”

“Oh, we will,” Ginny says. This staring contest is very childish, but Alicia would never say so. Instead, she positions herself in front of Al and leans up to press her lips to Al’s jaw.

“Don’t cause any trouble,” Alicia murmurs. Maybe Ginny can hear her, maybe she can’t. Alicia doesn’t really care. She just wants Al to come back completely intact.

“You know I can handle myself,” Al replies. Finally, she tears her eyes away from Ginny to meet Alicia’s gaze. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

Alicia nods, glances back over at Ginny, then makes her way for the bathroom. Before the door shuts, she hears Ginny say, “Alright, three minutes are up. We can go now.”

*

“I know what you think you’re doing.”

Al scoffs and continues to keep pace with Ginny on the way to the call center. “Please, enlighten me. What am I doing?”

“You think you’ve got information you can hold over me,” Ginny says matter-of-factly. “But that isn’t going to happen, Al. You and I both know that.”

“I’m not doing shit,” Al replies easily. “Apart from editing hours of footage before the day ends.”

Ginny hums. “Let’s keep it that way, Al.”

Al snorts but doesn’t say anything. It’s probably better that way, since she’s going to be trapped in the call center with Ginny for God knows how many hours. The faster she finishes editing everything they shot – hours of footage – the sooner she’ll get away from Ginny. At least, that’s what she hopes.

The call center isn’t a particularly large space, and even though Ginny sits on the opposite end of the room, there’s really only a few feet of space between their chairs. Ginny quickly starts to do her own thing, though, and Al starts to forget that she isn’t alone with the footage. She nearly jumps out of her skin the next time Ginny speaks, nearly an hour after they arrived.

“What’s going on in my personal life is none of your business, okay?”

“Jesus!” Al hisses. She spins around in her chair, eyebrows raised. “What?”

“Forgot I was here, didn’t you?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Al snaps. “You got something you want to talk about?”

“I’m just reminding you,” Ginny says, flashing a smile, “that what happens in my personal life is none of your business.”

“Then you should be more careful not to make it my business,” Al snorts. She spins back around to keep editing, but she can feel Ginny’s eyes on the back of her head. Al suppresses a sigh but can’t stop herself from asking, “What’s the big deal anyway? You’re not allowed to have a life?”

“My judgment cannot be compromised.”

“Sure,” Al says.

“My judgment can’t even _appear_ to be compromised,” Ginny adds.

“You have no life apart from leading the Pioneers. Just admit it,” Al says. She pauses. “Or you have a life, but it has to stay completely secret, and that’s no way to live.”

“Don’t try to analyze me, Al.”

Al shrugs. “Don’t invite me to, then.”

Ginny hesitates. “You’re going to keep what you saw to yourself.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“I want your word.”

Al exhales heavily. “You have my word. No one will find out. Happy now?”

Ginny nods curtly. “Just finish editing, will you? I have other things to do today. Things that don’t include babysitting you.”

*

The look on Ginny’s face when they step out of the call center and nearly run Dr. Ramsey down is priceless. Dr. Ramsey opens her mouth to speak, but Ginny holds up a hand, silencing her. Al tries her best not to look amused, but it’s too late for that.

“Al. Go,” Ginny barks.

“Yes, ma’am,” Al answers, barely holding in laughter. She takes off, and Ginny sighs, lifting her hat from her head to run her fingers through her hair.

“Dr. Ramsey. What can I do for you?” Ginny asks. She sounds more professional than she normally would, even though Al’s out of earshot and there’s no one else around.

“I need to ask you something,” Dr. Ramsey says. Ginny nods, glancing around, then steps back into the call center. Dr. Ramsey pulls the door shut behind them then blurts, “Will you take Alicia and her friends to Paradise Ridge with you in the morning? She wants to see Madison, and you know how Madison has been getting about Alicia’s injury.”

Ginny barely gives it any thought before she says, “Okay. Tell Alicia to be ready to leave by seven, or I’ll leave without her.”

“Thank you,” Dr. Ramsey exhales. “Alicia made it sound like she wanted Al and Luci to go, too. They might want Wes –”

“No,” Ginny cuts in. “He can stay behind. We need some leverage in case they decide to try something stupid.”

Dr. Ramsey nods. “Okay.”

“Before you go,” Ginny says quickly. “Tell me, honestly. Do you think it’s a good idea to let Alicia see Maddie?”

Dr. Ramsey blinks, and Ginny watches her try to figure out how honest she should be. Ginny raises her eyebrows, waiting. After a few more moments, Dr. Ramsey says, “I think it’s too late to stop it, whether it’s a good idea or not.”

*

Luci and Wes come by for dinner, as promised. Alicia has to admit, Al’s not bad at cooking. Not bad at all. Once Alicia can stand on her own without any assistance, she’ll try her hand at cooking, too. At least, that’s what she tells herself. Of course, that supposes that they’ll still be here at Imperial Lanes by the time Alicia fully heals. And frankly, Alicia is hoping that won’t be the case.

“So?” Luci says. “When’s the doctor stopping by?”

“Any time now, I hope,” Alicia answers. Her eyes flick over to Al, who’s just finishing the rice. Luci and Wes join Alicia at the kitchen table, and Alicia sets her eyes on the door, as if Hayley’s just going to burst in.

“And what if Ginny said no?” Wes questions.

“Then I guess we’ll have to figure something else out,” Al says. She puts the rice on the table with everything else, including fresh fruit from the Lanes’ recent harvest, and takes a seat. “We can worry about that when Ramsey comes back and tells us it’s a no.”

“How long do you think Madison will go before she demands to see Alicia?” Luci asks.

“Not much longer,” Alicia says.

“Madison can make a demand to see her,” Al points out. “Doesn’t mean Ginny will grant it.”

No one seems to want to respond to that. They make it through dinner with no interruptions. Al and Wes wash the dishes, and still, Hayley doesn’t show. Alicia checks the clock. It’s pushing toward seven p.m., and Alicia’s getting irrationally anxious. Hayley said she’d be here. She’ll be here eventually, and her answer will either be, _yes, you’ll see your mother tomorrow_ or _Ginny said no_.

Al apparently shares the same impatience that Alicia feels, because after she puts the last dish back in the cupboard, she says, “Well, I know what room is hers. I could always run across the hall to get us an answer before it’s completely dark outside.”

“She’s probably just busy,” Luci says. “They executed their main doctor, remember? She’s probably doing all the work here now.”

That’s a fair point.

Before Al can reply, there’s a knock at the door. Al rushes to answer it, exclaiming, “Well, it took you long enough!”

“Al,” Alicia sighs. Alicia knows being stuck in one place with the same people is not Al’s ideal lifestyle. It’s making her antsy, even more so than Alicia, and Alicia’s basically been bedridden for days.

“Right, sorry,” Al says, stepping aside to let Hayley in. “Fill us in, Doc. What’s happening?”

“Meet Ginny at the gates at seven,” Hayley informs. “She _will_ leave without you if you’re late.”

“That’s perfect,” Alicia says. “We’ll be there –”

“Not Wes,” Hayley says flatly. “Ginny was very specific.”

They’re all stunned into silence for a few moments. Al recovers first, managing to splutter, “What?”

“Ginny said she’ll take you three,” Hayley says, motioning between Alicia, Al, and Luci. “But Wes, you have to stay here. She can’t spare you.”

Alicia and Al exchange a look, and Alicia thinks Al’s having the same exact thought that she is. Ginny’s strategy is to leave one of them behind – even if Wes is the one that doesn’t personally know Madison – in case they get the idea of acting up somewhere along the way. It’s a thinly veiled threat. _Act up and he dies_.

“That’s the deal,” Hayley says. “It’s yours to take or leave. And you don’t have to tell me. You can just show up tomorrow at seven.”

“Okay,” Al says.

“Thank you,” Alicia pipes up. Hayley nods and takes off quickly, anticipating an argument. But as far as Alicia’s concerned, there’s nothing to argue about. She’s going to see her mom, whether Wes has to wait at the Lanes for them or not. She’s seeing Madison. That’s all that matters.

*

They’re up an hour early so they can make sure Alicia can get to the gate before seven. Alicia has no doubt that Ginny will be more than happy to speed off toward Paradise Ridge without any of them, so Alicia’s not going to make it easy for her. They reach the gates a half hour early, and Ginny’s Hummer is already there, being loaded up with supplies by Todd Allen.

“You made it,” Ginny calls.

“Of course we did,” Al replies. Al and Luci walk at a much slower pace than normal to keep up with Alicia. Ginny has her signature smile plastered on her face, and the mysterious nasty welt is looking a lot less nasty, even though its origin is still unexplained.

“We should be ready to go soon,” Ginny informs. “Feel free to get in.”

Al helps Alicia into the backseat before claiming the passenger’s seat as Ginny confers with Todd quietly. Luci joins Alicia and pulls the door shut, silencing Todd and Ginny’s whispers.

“Nervous?” Al asks, twisting around to look back at Alicia and Luci.

“Sort of,” Luci admits.

“A little,” Alicia says. “I’m not thrilled about being trapped in here with Ginny.”

Al snorts. “Yeah, I know.”

“But it’ll be fine once we’re there,” Alicia says. She doesn’t know if she’s trying to assure Al and Luci or herself. Maybe both.

Ginny is a very punctual person, apparently, because the Hummer takes off right at seven. There’s no music, but Ginny hums to herself sometimes, one arm hanging out the window. She’s the scariest post-apocalypse driver that Alicia has encountered so far, and that’s considering herself and Nick and even Charlie, that one time they tried to teach her to drive. But they all bite their tongues and hang on for dear life as Ginny makes sharper than necessary turns and drives at seventy miles an hour down roads that were not intended for that type of speed.

They make it to Paradise Ridge in record time, if Alicia had to guess. The Hummer rolls right up to the gates, and two men pull them open quickly so Ginny can coast right in. Paradise Ridge is…a lot more structured than the Lanes, Alicia can already tell. They have guards posted, carrying machine guns. Ginny parks not far from the gates, but as Al goes to get out, Ginny punches the lock button.

“You hold on just a second,” Ginny says. “I’m gonna need one of you to help me unload, and no offense, but it can’t be Alicia.”

“I’ve got it,” Al grumbles. “I’ll catch up with you.”

“Come on,” Luci says quietly. She hurries around to help Alicia get out and back on the crutches. Al and Alicia exchange a look while Ginny’s preoccupied, but Al just nods and motions for Alicia and Luci to go. They don’t have to go far. Alicia hears a door slam shut, and as she turns in the direction of the sound, she sees her mother sprinting at them. Literally sprinting. The cowboy hat on her head flies off, but Madison doesn’t stop. For a moment, Alicia thinks her mom’s going to collide with her in spite of her injury, but Madison skids to a stop just in time to gently but firmly pull Alicia into her.

“Mom,” Alicia says, voice muffled by Madison’s shoulder.

“Shh,” Madison says next to Alicia’s ear. “Whatever you’re going to say – not here, okay?”

“Okay,” Alicia whispers.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Madison says.

“Me too, Mom.”

Madison pulls back, holding onto Alicia’s shoulders. “How’s your leg doing?”

“It’s fine, Mom. I’m fine. Really.”

“Hayley’s been treating you well?” Madison questions.

“She’s been fine,” Alicia says, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “I got lucky.”

“Very lucky,” Madison agrees. She smiles and finally goes to hug Luci. Alicia can’t help but to glance back at the Hummer, at Al and Ginny hauling all the supplies out as other Pioneers show up to carry things off.

“Who else is here?” Luci asks.

“Daniel,” Madison says, putting her hands on her hips. “I thought he was dead, honestly.”

“So did we, for a while,” Alicia says. “That’s a long story.”

Madison nods. “And your friend, Wendell,” Madison adds. “He’s one of our brewers here now.”

“What about Morgan?” Luci asks. She keeps her voice down, but Madison’s eyes still flick toward Ginny. Before she can answer, a Pioneer pops up behind her with her lost hat in hand. Madison takes the hat back and waves the Pioneer off before returning her attention to Alicia and Luci.

“He isn’t here,” Madison answers. “I’m sorry. Only Daniel and Wendell were transferred out here.”

“And what about Tom and Janis?” Luci asks. Honestly, Alicia had forgotten all about them, but in her defense, a lot of shit has happened since the Gulch fell. And she barely knew them to begin with.

Madison grimaces. “I’ll fill you in later,” she says. “They’re almost done unloading. I’ll take you to my place, and we can get caught up.”

The moment the trunk of the Hummer is closed, Al breaks away, jogging over to join them. “What’d I miss?” she asks.

“Nothing,” Madison answers. She motions towards one of the apartment complexes. “Come on. We should be able to get a little time to ourselves before Ginny comes up with some kind of excuse to break us up.”

*

Alicia sinks into the leather couch in Madison’s living room, exhaling heavily. Madison locks the deadbolt behind them, dropping her hat onto the kitchen table. She rushes to pull the curtains shut and turn a lamp on instead. Alicia’s eyes wander around the apartment in the meantime. It doesn’t even look lived in. Alicia has barely seen the outside of her own room at the Lanes, but maybe Madison barely sees the inside of her apartment.

“What happened?” Madison demands. “I want to know _everything_.”

They take turns explaining what happened at Humbug’s Gulch, then at the Lanes. They don’t hold back. There’s no reason to. Alicia trusts Madison. And Madison doesn’t interrupt once. She waits for them to finish speaking, takes a moment to absorb the information.

“You found the list,” Madison says.

“Yes,” Al answers. “And Morgan’s missing from it. That doesn’t seem like the kind of oversight that happens here.”

Madison shakes her head. “No, that was very much an intentional omission.”

Al’s eyes narrow. Unlike Alicia and Luci, Al hasn’t sat down since they arrived. She’s been walking around, too restless to attempt to stay seated. Alicia almost tries to tell Al to be careful with whatever she’s about to say, but there’s no point.

“You know more than you’ve been letting on, Madison,” Al accuses.

Madison has the audacity to crack a smile. “Of course I do,” she says. “I’m the head of security here. I know everything that’s relevant to keeping our community safe.”

“You know what happened to Morgan,” Al says.

“I do.”

“And Tom and Janis?” Luci pipes up.

Madison winces. “I know that, too, but that’s no secret. They were executed in front of all of Paradise Ridge for insubordination and treason. It’s bullshit, and Ginny knows it, but she doesn’t need people following in their footsteps.”

“Like Bolton,” Alicia says. “He stole from the infirmary, so Ginny had him executed.”

“It sends a message,” Madison says.

“It says something about who these people are,” Al snaps.

“They were executed for a very specific reason, Al,” Madison says. Her voice suddenly drops low, forcing Al to stop pacing around the room. Luci slides over to make room for her as Madison exhales heavily and drops into the armchair across from the couch. “I know you think Ginny is full of shit, but everything we’ve built here has been because of her. And she intends to keep going. She’s going to single-handedly rebuild society in her image.”

“In her image?” Al scoffs. “You mean she’s going to be a dictator and the rest of us are going to comply or die.”

“That’s how things are,” Madison says.

“It doesn’t have to be like that,” Al insists.

“I know,” Madison says. Alicia’s eyes lock with Madison’s. “These executions happened because of me.”

“What?” Alicia exclaims.

“Not directly,” Madison amends. “But there’s been…talk, mostly, about the way things are being run around here. And Ginny doesn’t like competition.”

“So like any good dictator, she wipes out anyone that poses a threat,” Al says.

“Exactly,” Madison agrees. “Except for the people she thinks she can control and use. Once they stop being useful…” Madison shrugs. “If you’re useful and compliant, you’re fine.”

“But Bolton was useful,” Luci argues.

“Bolton was getting old,” Madison replies. “And Ginny is confident that she can replace him with June Dorie. Bolton was expendable, and she used him to remind the people of the Lanes who really holds the power here.”

“So Tom and Janis…” Luci says.

“Blatantly undermined Ginny’s authority,” Madison finishes. “And they paid the price and sent the message to everyone else to behave.”

“Why are you telling us this?” Al asks suddenly. “I mean, no offense, but why should we trust you, Madison? You’re the head of security here. You’re basically Ginny’s right hand woman.”

Madison grins, causing Al to falter. “Don’t be so sure about that, Al,” Madison says. “But please, continue.”

“Where’s Morgan?” Al asks.

“He’s dead,” Madison answers. Alicia chokes on air as Al’s eyebrows shoot upward. Luci’s jaw hangs open, and for a moment, they’re all too stunned to speak.

“What do you mean, he’s _dead_?” Alicia asks. “We all got split up and sent to different settlements.”

“Not Morgan,” Madison says quietly. “He was killed at the Gulch by Ginny. She explained it as _he would cause too much trouble_.”

“He would challenge her authority,” Al says.

“Exactly.” Madison pauses. “You’ve seen Ginny’s face, haven’t you?”

“Every day,” Al says flatly. “Unfortunately.”

“The bruise on Ginny’s face,” Madison says, motioning toward her own face where it would be located. “That was from Morgan.”

“She wouldn’t say what happened,” Al says.

“Of course she wouldn’t. It makes her look bad.”

“What are we going to do?” Luci whispers. “Ginny will kill anyone who challenges her. We can’t just walk out of here and go off on our own anymore. What do we do?”

Madison hesitates. “I can tell you don’t trust me,” she says. “I could tell even before Al basically said it for you all. But I need you to just find it in yourselves to trust me, okay? Just have faith in me. Can you do that?”

Al looks dubious, but Alicia’s already nodding. “You know we’ll do whatever we have to in order to help,” Alicia says. She ignores the look Al shoots her, but of course, it doesn’t escape Madison’s notice.

“I wish I could tell you everything,” Madison says. “But it’s too risky.”

“What’s going on, Madison?” Al asks. “And don’t give us more bullshit. Tell me the truth.”

Madison smiles. “You haven’t changed at all, Al,” she says. “I need you all to stay out of trouble. Keep your heads down. Something is coming, and I want you as far away from it as possible.”

“Not if you’re part of it,” Alicia insists. “We want to help. We’ll do whatever it takes to get out of here.”

“There is no getting out,” Madison says. “That’s the point. We aren’t trying to get out. We’re trying to change the Pioneers.”

“Who?” Al presses.

“I can’t tell you that. I can’t put any of them at risk.”

“If you get caught –” Al says, but she cuts herself off when Alicia stiffens beside her.

“Ginny will execute the whole lot of us,” Madison says. “I know. We all know. But we’ve been incredibly careful.”

“How long has this – whatever _this_ is – been going on?” Al asks.

“People have been unhappy from the beginning, from what I’ve heard,” Madison answers. “They recruited me within a week of my arrival.”

“Who’s _they_?” Al asks. Alicia’s throat is too dry for her to speak. She never in a million years would’ve guessed her mom was involved in some underground…movement? With the purpose of _changing_ the Pioneers? “Who recruited you?” Al clarifies.

Madison hesitates. “The Reformers.”

“How many of you are there?” Al asks.

“Enough.”

“How’d they recruit you?” Al questions. That’s the first question that gives Madison a real reason to pause. Her eyes shift away from Al over to Alicia.

“Ginny wouldn’t let me look for my kids,” she says. “Not at first. I had to work around Ginny’s plans. It wasn’t until I’d proven myself as a worthy asset that she gave me any sort of freedom. And sure enough, I found Alicia a few weeks later.” Madison shakes her head and mutters, “But I was too late to save Nick.”

“You don’t want to be one of them,” Alicia blurts. “You aren’t here because you agree with them, right?”

Madison presses her lips together. “Ginny is brutally effective, I’ll give her that,” Madison admits. “We can make what we’ve built here even better, but she won’t entertain any ideas. She has her way of doing things, and nothing can change her.”

“Madison, what are you planning?” Al asks.

“An assassination?” Luci guesses.

“You can’t expect to remove Ginny and have everything resolve itself overnight,” Al says. “Someone will step up –”

“We’re prepared,” Madison asserts. “You haven’t been here long. You haven’t seen the types of things we’ve resorted to.”

“Like what?” Alicia asks softly.

“Those videos Ginny put out – they’re meant for a very specific audience. The Pioneers is _her_ society. She accepts who she wants and turns anyone else away.”

“And executes anyone who stands in her way,” Al says.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Madison says. “And that’s why I need you all to stay out. No more pulling stunts like snatching lists out of the call center. You’re lucky no one noticed, but you might not get lucky again.”

“You want us to play dumb?” Al questions. “Just go along like we know nothing and act like everything is fine?”

“As far as you’re concerned, everything _is_ fine,” Madison says, pointing a finger at Al. “And you do know nothing. You gave me your word, Al. You said you’d protect Alicia. So do yourselves a favor, and _stay out of this_.”

“And what if we can’t?” Al challenges. “We barely know what’s going on. How are we supposed to react –?”

“The Lanes will fall easily,” Madison says. “You’ll be safe there.”

Al nods. “All the action will be here, you mean,” she says.

“We take Paradise Ridge, we take everything,” Madison confirms. “The only leader who might put up a fight is Dominic out at Shoreline, but even he isn’t exactly thrilled with Ginny.”

“Who is?” Al huffs.

Madison grunts. “You’d be surprised.”

The knock at the door startles them all, but Madison holds up a hand and goes to get it. Luci wrings her hands in her lap as they wait. Alicia presses her fingertips against the back of Al’s hand, snagging her attention. Al’s eyebrows raise, and Alicia looks to the door before she dares to say anything.

“She’s planning an uprising,” Alicia breathes.

“We don’t know that she’s planning it,” Al replies, equally as quiet as Alicia. Luci has to lean in to hear them. “But she’s definitely part of it.”

“We have to help,” Alicia says.

“We should listen to Madison,” Luci counters. “We don’t want to screw anything up. Or get anyone killed.”

Al shakes her head. “You really think Ginny doesn’t have any idea that this kind of thing is happening right under her nose? You think her nighttime companion Ramsey doesn’t know what’s going on? Whatever these Reformers are – whatever this movement is, it’s doomed to fail.”

“We don’t know that,” Alicia insists. She glances over at the door, but Madison’s body is blocking the small opening. The voice in the hall is too deep to be Ginny’s.

“This is our only chance,” Luci says. “But I think we should listen to Madison. See how things go before we interfere with anything.”

“We can’t just sit around,” Al argues.

“We don’t know what we’re getting into!” Luci hisses. “We’d be going in blind! We might make everything worse.”

“She’s right,” Alicia says. “If my mom doesn’t want us involved…we have to do what she asks. If she needs our help, she’ll tell us.”

The door shuts, and they all jump. “You’re staying here for the night,” Madison informs. “Here, as in, in this apartment. So make yourselves comfortable.”

*

Alicia’s asleep in Madison’s bed before sundown, and Luci’s getting settled in the spare room when Al joins Madison at the kitchen table. Madison has an obscene amount of papers spread out in front of her, signing off on some, skimming through others.

“Paperwork?” Al says. “I thought the end of the world killed that part of our lives.”

Madison chuckles and shakes her head. “Not here,” she mutters. “Ginny likes things to run smoothly.”

“You don’t like the way Ginny runs things.”

Al takes a seat across from Madison as Madison looks up. Madison sighs and tucks her pen behind her ear for the time being. “I’m serious, Al,” Madison says. “Don’t meddle in this. I don’t want Alicia in any more danger than she already is.”

“Already is?” Al asks sharply.

Madison laughs, shaking her head. “She’s my daughter,” Madison says. “Of course she’s in danger. As soon as this thing blows up, as soon as Ginny knows I’m connected to the Reformers, Alicia will have a massive target on her back. Ginny already knows she can use Alicia to manipulate me. Don’t give Ginny more power than she already has.”

“She has _all_ the power,” Al says. “You can’t possibly win against her.”

“You don’t know me very well, Al.”

Al shakes her head but can’t exactly refute the point. “But I’ve seen what Ginny is capable of. And if she killed Morgan –”

“She did.”

“Then how can you possibly think you stand a chance? Be honest, Madison. Is this going to be a full-blown uprising?”

“The less you know, the better,” Madison says. “And how can I think we stand a chance? Maybe we’ll lose –”

“If you lose, you all die,” Al says. “The stakes are high.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” Madison sneers. “But I’m not going to lie down and take this anymore. Someone has to do something. And we’re going to.”

“I don’t like this,” Al says.

“You don’t have to like it.”

Al inhales deeply, averting her gaze away from Madison and toward the nearest window instead. Madison has a view of the front of Paradise Ridge, including the gates. “You know I’ll keep her safe,” Al says. “No matter what.”

“I know,” Madison says. “And I know there’s definitely something between you now.”

“There wasn’t before.”

“I know,” Madison says.

“I should’ve been with her,” Al says. “When she was shot. I should’ve been closer –”

“You did what you could,” Madison interrupts. “And you got her help. You let Hayley help her. You stayed with her. She’s here. She’ll heal. You did everything you could.”

Al nods and swallows hard. “What happened to gutting me if anything happened to Alicia?”

“I didn’t say I’d gut you,” Madison laughs.

“It was implied.”

Madison hums in acknowledgment. “She’s alive,” Madison says. “And it’s looking like she’ll have most of the function in her leg back eventually. I know it’d be a lot worse if she didn’t have you around.”

“So no gutting?”

“Not until you hurt her.”

“Right. Glad we’re on the same page.”

“But I need you to at least try to keep her safe,” Madison says. “And that means staying out of this.”

“I’m not even sure I know how to get in it, Madison.”

“Keep it that way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	22. he was causing too much trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update on this story? Twice in the same week? It's more likely than you'd think. Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter!

The pounding on the door scares the living daylights out of Al, and she nearly falls off the couch as a result. Al scrambles to her feet, still not fully conscious, but she hesitates. Answering the door is not up to her. Before she can head for Madison’s room, Madison emerges from the hallway, wearing sweatpants and still in the middle of pulling a hoodie over her head.

“What’s going on?” Al says groggily. She drops back down onto the couch as Madison heads for the door. “Is this normal?”

“Visitors at five in the morning?” Madison replies. “No. Not at all. Just – stay there. Stay quiet.”

They’re fucked. Al doesn’t know how, but Ginny has found out all about the Reformers – which Al still barely understands, even given what their name implies – and now she’s here to slaughter them all. Well, Al’s had a good life.

Madison yanks the door open and grumbles, “What could you possibly want at this hour, Peter?” and Al’s irrational concerns dissipate.

“Ginny sent me,” Peter says, quickly and breathlessly. “Something’s happened. She needs you at the call center. Now.”

“Okay, let me –”

“Now!” Peter insists.

“Grab my gun,” Madison finishes flatly. “Calm down, kid. You’re gonna give yourself a heart attack, and you’re too young for that.”

“It’s just – it’s really bad.”

Madison glances back at Al. “Don’t wake them unless I tell you to,” Madison orders. “Go grab the walkie out of my desk, quietly. Wait for instructions.”

“Got it.”

“Peter. Take me to Ginny.”

*

“What happened?” Madison demands. She doesn’t like facing Ginny in her sleep pants and her UC Berkeley hoodie with a fading logo, but she wasn’t given much of a choice.

“Goddamn it, Maddie,” Ginny blurts as Madison approaches the call center. “I should’ve _known_ transferring Dr. Ramsey to Imperial Lanes would be a bad idea.”

“What’s going on?” Madison asks. It’s five in the morning. The only other people currently up besides Madison, Ginny, and poor Peter are the two gate attendants. The sun’s hardly up. Madison scans the surrounding area, but nothing is out of place.

“Lyle fell off the fucking roof,” Ginny growls.

“What?” Madison exclaims. “Where is he?”

Ginny motions for Madison to follow her. Madison walks behind Ginny to the back of the call center, where Lyle is laid out on the pavement, unmoving. Before Madison can ask, Ginny says, “He’s not dead. I gave him morphine. He’s out, but alive. For now.”

“You’re just going to leave him here?” Madison questions.

“I can’t move a two hundred pound man to the infirmary by myself, Maddie.”

Madison exhales heavily. “Well, let’s run through our options,” Madison suggests. “We could call Lukas in and get him transferred to Westfield.”

“Lukas is an idiot,” Ginny dismisses. She shakes her head. “I’m going to have to recall Dr. Ramsey.”

“And the Lanes?”

“If there are any issues, they’ll have to transfer them to Westfield.”

“But Westfield is closer to us than it is to the Lanes,” Madison points out. “It’d be smarter to send Lyle to Westfield.”

“We can’t move him,” Ginny says. “Who knows what happened to him when he fell? I’m not risking paralyzing him.”

“We could call Lukas here –”

“I already said, Lukas is an idiot,” Ginny cuts in. “I’ll call Dr. Ramsey. She’ll get here within a couple hours. Then we’ll handle him.”

“We can’t just leave him out here,” Madison argues.

“What do you suggest we do with him, Maddie?” Ginny asks calmly. “If we move him and paralyze him, we’ll have wasted everyone’s time.”

Madison knows Ginny has already had the same thought she’s having right now: what if he’s _already_ paralyzed, regardless of if they move him? Madison doesn’t bother to ask. She knows the answer. But let Ginny act as if leaving him in the spot he landed is going to prevent paralysis. Let Ginny act as though Dr. Ramsey is going to have some miracle cure for Lyle. It’s a joke.

“Why was he on the roof of the call center?” Madison asks. She already knows the answer to that question, too. She just hopes against all odds that Ginny hasn’t figured it out for herself. Or that no one’s tipped her off. The more detailed their plans get, the more paranoid Madison gets about someone selling them out to Ginny.

“Beats me,” Ginny says. “He couldn’t or wouldn’t answer. Screaming too much.”

“Someone should stay with him,” Madison says. “Until Hayley gets here.”

“Chet can do it,” Ginny decides. “I have to call Dr. Ramsey.”

“What do you want me to do?” Madison asks.

“Go around,” Ginny commands. “Tell everyone to stay in their rooms until they’re told otherwise. Then get Peter and come find me. I want to handle this as quietly as possible.”

Meaning she wants as few witnesses to this mess as possible. Madison barely stops herself from scoffing as her eyes fall on Lyle. He was supposed to be careful. He wasn’t supposed to fall off the fucking roof. He said he could handle it, and Madison took his word for it without question. All he had to do was knock out the fucking satellite dish and disrupt the Pioneers’ communication abilities to buy them some time, and now he might as well be as good as dead. It’s a miracle Ginny’s bothering to call Hayley at all.

*

This might be one of the stupidest decisions she’s ever made in her life. It’s just after five in the morning, but Hayley goes to room 5B and pounds on the door until its sole occupant answers.

“What?” Wes groans. He looks her over. “I didn’t call for a doctor.”

“I need you to do me a favor,” Hayley says. “Grab anything you need and let’s go.”

“What?”

“You heard me! We have to go!”

“Where are we –?”

“Paradise Ridge. Come on.” She slaps the keys into his chest, and Wes barely gets his hands on them to stop them from clattering to the floor. “You’re driving.”

*

Al pulls the door open, more than relieved to see Madison on the other side. “What’s going on?” she asks.

“There’s been an accident,” Madison says calmly. She holds her hand up to silence Al before she can bombard her with questions. “Lyle fell off the roof. Hayley’s being recalled here from the Lanes. We’re handling it. Ginny wants everyone to stay in their rooms, so stay here. Keep Alicia and Luci here. I’ll be back when I can. Use the walkie to call me if you need something, but remember everyone here at Paradise Ridge can hear you if you use it. I have to go.”

“Madison, wait!”

But Madison’s already halfway down the hall.

*

She didn’t know what she was getting into when she first joined the Pioneers. Looking back at it, she should’ve figured it out sooner, should’ve been more aware. She joined early on, not long after America’s major cities began to fall. But she was so happy to have a stable and relatively safe place to live, a place where she could put her medical skills to use, that she let herself overlook it until it was too late. And now –

Well, now she’s just stuck. Hayley didn’t know what getting involved personally with Ginny would bring. And she didn’t see the other side of Ginny – the brutal side – for quite a while. Maybe intentionally, if Ginny decided to hide it from her once the nature of their relationship became undeniable. Though Hayley will never delude herself into believing Ginny truly cares for her more than she cares for her end goal, Ginny definitely cares now. Even just since they absorbed Morgan’s group, things have changed, as much as Ginny doesn’t want this to be the case.

The worst part is, it’s going to bite Ginny in the ass, just like she always claimed it would. Ginny let herself be distracted by Hayley. It happened gradually, of course. There were never supposed to be any feelings, and maybe there still isn’t anything serious from Ginny’s point of view. Maybe Ginny’s judgment is perfectly intact, but Hayley –

They hit a pothole, startling Hayley out of her trance. Wes mutters an apology, but overall, he drives carefully, maneuvering the pickup truck around the debris scattered around the roads. Hayley made him drive for a reason. She’s too jittery, leg bouncing incessantly, gnawing on the inside of her cheek. She can’t stay focused. Her mind keeps drifting. Ginny didn’t tell her much, just the Lyle fell off the roof and was obviously in pain. Neither said the word _paralyzed_ , but Hayley knows they were both thinking it.

“The thing that makes no sense,” Ginny had said, “is _why_ he was on the roof in the first place. What the hell was he doing up there? And this early in the morning?”

“Maybe the call center lost its signal,” Hayley guessed. She tried to swallow down the terror rising in her throat. “Maybe he was trying to fix it.”

“If that’s the case, he should’ve called someone,” Ginny replied. “Just get here as fast as you can.”

“Dr. Lukas is closer and better equipped to handle this,” Hayley said gently. “You know that.”

“I’ve made my decision,” Ginny snapped. “Get out here _now_.”

And that was the end of that. Recalling her is a bad idea, and they both know it. Hayley forced Ginny to acknowledge it to her, at least. Lukas is a real doctor, not a hack. Hayley is half a doctor, maybe, but Ginny acts like she’s some miracle worker. Ginny better hope Hayley can’t work a miracle here. Ginny better hope that fixing Alicia’s leg was the only miracle allotted to Hayley.

Hayley doesn’t know anything for sure. She’s heard rumors, ranging from plausible to downright impossible, but details are hard to come by. Especially when one of the plausible rumors swirling amongst the Pioneers is _Ginny’s in love with that doctor_. Though not an entirely true rumor, it’s close enough that it makes Hayley look untrustworthy. Everyone knows Hayley has close ties to Ginny, and no one fucks with that. So Hayley doesn’t have anything to hide from Ginny, because she really does not know anything substantial. No one tells her shit.

But she knows Tom and Janis defecting was just the beginning. She knows there’s a storm brewing. And she knows Ginny’s too arrogant for her own good, too assured of her ability to lead and rebuild. Hayley doesn’t want anything bad to happen to Ginny – and maybe part of that is out of the selfish desire to keep herself alive, above all else – but she’s got a bad feeling.

And if there’s one unsubstantiated rumor that Hayley is positive is true, it’s that whatever’s going on, Madison Clark has everything to do with it.

*

There’s trouble the moment Hayley Ramsey steps out of the passenger’s side of the pickup truck. Ginny makes it to the gate in record time when she’s alerted of the truck’s arrival. Ginny’s eyes widen as Hayley shuts the door and approaches Ginny in an obvious attempt to draw her attention away from the driver.

“What in the _fuck_ is _he_ doing here?” Ginny hisses.

“Ginny, just hang on –” Hayley says, grasping onto her shoulders in a futile attempt to calm her down before she’s even truly gotten worked up.

“I was _very_ specific about what we were doing!” Ginny bursts. Her eyes narrow as Wes hesitantly exits the truck, glancing around Paradise Ridge and making a point of not looking directly at Ginny. Ginny makes a conscious effort to lower her voice. “Now we have no leverage at the Lanes.”

“You’re worried they’re going to try something?” Hayley questions.

“It’s always a possibility.”

“But you must think it’s more probable now,” Hayley says. “Bringing Wes here should change nothing.”

Ginny bares her teeth, but she recognizes this isn’t the time. “We’re going to discuss this later,” Ginny growls. “Now’s not the time. Lyle still needs your assistance.”

“What do you really expect me to do for him?” Hayley asks quietly.

“Get him on his feet or get him to talk,” Ginny replies. “I don’t really care. Find out why he was on the roof, and if you think he’ll heal, get his ass to the infirmary.”

“How?”

Ginny throws her hands into the air. “Take Wes and Chet and have them carry him there, for all I care. Just make it happen.”

“And if he’s paralyzed?”

“Call me.”

*

“Everyone’s been made aware of the emergency situation,” Maddie informs Ginny. “They’re all staying put. We’ll have the day to sort everything out.”

“Wonderful,” Ginny grumbles. “Dr. Ramsey is here. She should have an update for us soon.”

Maddie nods. “Anything else I can do, ma’am?”

“Stay out of the way.” Maddie balks, but Ginny has no time for pleasantries. Almost as an afterthought, Ginny adds, “And get Wes up into one of the empty rooms. I don’t want to see him.”

Ginny leaves Maddie behind, returning to the back of the call center. Dr. Ramsey is still kneeling over Lyle, who’s conscious but no longer screaming, thankfully. Nothing more annoying than screaming. Chet’s still hanging around, and Ginny gives a flick of her wrist, promptly dismissing him. He rushes off, leaving Ginny alone with Dr. Ramsey and Lyle.

“Well?” Ginny says, placing her hands on her hips. Dr. Ramsey won’t look up at her. Lyle’s breathing is erratic, and Ginny notices blood dripping from one of his ears. At first, she’d thought it was coming from the gash in his temple, but no. That’s a shame. Based on how Lyle grimaces, on how he doesn’t even try to move, on how Dr. Ramsey won’t pull her gaze away from the ground, Ginny knows the answer to her unasked question. “Paralyzed?” Ginny says.

Dr. Ramsey gives a curt nod. Before she can answer, Lyle whispers, “Can’t feel anything below my waist.”

Ginny hums. “That’s really unfortunate, Lyle. Really unfortunate. But tell me: what exactly were you doing on the roof?” Lyle swallows hard and blinks, parts his lips, but he doesn’t answer. “Hmm?” Ginny says, raising her eyebrows. “Come on. We’re all friends here. What was so important that you needed to go up on the roof? Did we lose the satellite signal or something? Did you go up there to try to adjust the dish? That’s the only answer that makes any sense, isn’t it? Can you say that, Lyle? Or even just nod if I’m right?”

Still nothing. Ginny inhales sharply, but Dr. Ramsey interjects, “Ginny, we need to get him to the infirmary. I can’t do anything more for him here.”

“You hold on just one second, Doctor. I want Lyle to answer my question.”

“He’s still in pain,” Dr. Ramsey argues. “I think there’s more damage to his back apart from the paralysis.”

“And he’s bleeding out of his ears,” Ginny says. Dr. Ramsey’s jaw goes slack, and she stares up at Ginny in silence for a long few moments. “Which probably means he smacked his head against the pavement, right? The bleeding ears probably means head trauma? You’re no neurosurgeon, Dr. Ramsey, and even if you were –” Ginny trails off then grins, shaking her head. “It’s much too late for you to do anything.”

“I have to try!” Dr. Ramsey insists.

“That’s very noble of you, but right now, I need a fucking answer. Lyle, why were you on the goddamn roof this early in the morning? Surely if we lost the signal to the call center, you could’ve let me know before going up there. There really is no logical reason for you to be up there without permission. Shit like this,” Ginny pauses to wave her hand over where Lyle lies, “happens when you decide to do things like, oh, getting up on a fucking roof without supervision.”

“I was just trying to handle it myself,” Lyle says through his teeth.

“Handle what? The satellite dish issue? Some other issue? You still haven’t told me why you went up there. What were you trying to do?”

Ginny watches Lyle lock eyes with Dr. Ramsey. He mouths something that might be _I can’t_ , but Ginny isn’t sure. And if he _is_ trying to say “I can’t” then…what? He can’t _what_? Ginny watches confusion cross Dr. Ramsey’s features. Before Dr. Ramsey can ask him to try again, he shifts his gaze back up to Ginny and manages to spit out, “You can kiss my ass, Ginny.”

Ginny exhales through her nose and nods. She frowns briefly to herself, because she knows what this likely means. He wasn’t up on that roof to fix jack shit. That much is crystal clear. “Thank you, Lyle,” Ginny says. “That’ll be all.”

“Wait,” Dr. Ramsey says. She holds her hand up, but Ginny ignores her. Dr. Ramsey’s eyes widen, and she starts to yell, “Ginny, no!” but Ginny swiftly pulls her revolver, cocks the hammer, and splatters Lyle’s brains across the pavement. And across Dr. Ramsey’s face and shirt. She sits, stunned, as Ginny holsters her revolver. It’d probably be too much to spit on the body, but Ginny won’t lie, the thought crosses her mind. She restrains herself, hearing boots on the pavement behind her.

“You shot him?” Maddie says breathlessly. Of course it’s Maddie. Nothing gets past her.

“There was nothing more we could do,” Ginny says coolly. She crouches down and points to Lyle’s bloodied ear. “Head trauma was too much. We were losing him.”

Her eyes lock with Dr. Ramsey’s. Dr. Ramsey’s face is still stuck in its shocked expression, but Ginny silently dares Dr. Ramsey to challenge her version of events in front of Maddie. Dr. Ramsey remains speechless, which is fine by Ginny. Ginny turns her attention from Dr. Ramsey to Maddie, but Maddie looks as stoic as ever, even as her eyes fall on Lyle’s face, on the bullet hole in his skull.

“That’s too bad,” Maddie says quietly.

“Yeah, it is too bad,” Ginny agrees, returning to her feet. She straightens out her blazer, rests her hand on the revolver at her hip. “He couldn’t seem to tell me why he was on the roof.”

Maddie, of course, doesn’t miss the way Ginny’s hand lingers near the revolver. But Maddie also doesn’t appear overly concerned about it. She just shrugs. “He’s always been kind of difficult, Ginny.”

“Sure,” Ginny says. “But why risk injury like that? Just to adjust a satellite dish?”

“I have no idea.”

Ginny nods. “Okay, Maddie,” she says simply. “I’ve got to get this mess cleaned up. We’re burning daylight, and we’re already behind. Take Dr. Ramsey here to go freshen up, and I’ll let you know when we’re ready to start functioning like normal again.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ginny rolls her eyes and pulls her walkie. She’ll be damned if she gets rid of the body. She’s going to have Chet and Peter dump the body somewhere outside of Paradise Ridge. Let the dead fucking have it.

*

Hayley’s entire body quakes during the entire walk to Madison’s apartment. Madison feels bad for her, to a degree. Madison’s one of the people who believes the rumors about Hayley and Ginny, even if she thinks Hayley’s not generally a bad person. She sure as hell makes some bad decisions, though. But Madison refuses to blame Hayley for Lyle’s death. That’s not her fault. Now with Lyle dead, Madison really needs to find a way to speak to Brandon. Their original plan has gone down the tubes.

“She shot him,” Hayley whispers. Madison resists the urge to shush her. They haven’t reached Madison’s apartment yet. Anyone could hear them out in the hallway.

“I know,” Madison says. “Just hang on, okay?”

“She shot him, just like she shot Morgan,” Hayley continues.

“Hayley,” Madison says sharply. “Please wait until we reach my apartment.”

Hayley nods quickly. She’s obviously still in shock, still covered in Lyle’s blood. Maybe Hayley knew him. She’s lived at Paradise Ridge longer than Madison has. She’s known Ginny longer. Madison would be surprised if Hayley was completely unaware of what’s been going on around her. Madison didn’t start this; she just caused the movement to accelerate, and with or without Lyle, she’s going to see it through.

And if lives will be lost in the process, so be it. Madison just hopes Hayley keeps herself out of the way. Ginny isn’t worth it.

Madison gets the apartment door open and steers Hayley inside. Al jumps up off the couch but freezes when her eyes land on Hayley’s face, flecked with Lyle’s blood. Her shirt is equally splattered with it, bold crimson against bright white.

“I thought I heard a shot,” Al admits. “But you said to stay here –”

“There was a shot,” Madison confirms. “And I’m glad you listened to me. Take Hayley and get this blood off her, okay?”

“What about you?” Al asks. Luci emerges from the hallway, but if she was going to say something, she stops herself when she sees Hayley.

“There’s someone I have to talk to,” Madison says. “Don’t worry. Just stay here. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

“Alicia and I heard a gunshot,” Luci finally manages to say. “What’s happening?”

“I’ll fill you in later,” Madison promises. “Just – please keep Alicia in bed. She needs to rest. And get Hayley cleaned up. I’ll come back.”

“Madison,” Al protests, but once again, Madison leaves without looking back.

*

“What the fuck happened out there?” Al demands.

“Al,” Luci warns. She rushes to Ramsey’s side and takes her arm, tugging her toward the bathroom. “That can wait,” Luci decides. “Let’s just get this blood off her first, okay?”

“Who was shot?” Al presses. She helps Luci drag Ramsey to Madison’s bathroom. “Daniel? Wendell? _Ginny_?”

Ramsey shakes her head. “Lyle.”

“Who’s Lyle?” Al questions.

“See?” Luci says exasperatedly. “We don’t know who Lyle is, and she’s not going to be able to tell us yet, Al. Can we just give her a minute? She’s wearing his blood.”

Al purses her lips but nods. “Fine,” she agrees. “But I can handle this. You go make sure Alicia’s not trying to walk, please.”

“Wes is here,” Ramsey says, startling Al and Luci. “I had him drive me here.”

“What?” Al says. “Why did you – _what_?”

“I don’t know,” Ramsey admits. “I couldn’t leave him at the Lanes by himself.”

“Where is he?” Luci asks.

“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Madison.”

“Okay,” Al agrees.

“Someone better tell me what’s going on!” Alicia shouts from the bedroom down the hall. "Or I’m gonna get up! I mean it!”

“Go,” Al says to Luci. “Last thing we need is Alicia hurting her leg. Ramsey isn’t in any shape to help her.” Luci takes off, and Al pulls the door shut behind her. “Ginny’s going to come for you eventually, isn’t she?” Al asks. “She’s going to show up here to take you with her.”

“Probably.”

“Why did she shoot Lyle?” Al asks.

Ramsey’s eyes lock with Al’s. “Same reason she shot Morgan,” she answers flatly. “He was causing too much trouble.”

*

Alicia sits upright in bed when Al slips into the room, shutting the door behind her.

“What the fuck is going on?” Alicia blurts. Luci grasps onto her shoulder to stop her from trying to get up, but luckily, Al drops down onto the other side of the bed, exhaling heavily.

“Luci didn’t tell you?”

“Luci told me, but it doesn’t make any sense!”

“I know,” Al says. “It doesn’t make sense to us, either.”

“She didn’t say anything?” Alicia asks. “Hayley. She didn’t tell you anything helpful?”

“She said, Ginny shot Lyle for the same reason she shot Morgan. _He was causing too much trouble_.”

“You don’t think…” Luci trails off, chewing on her lower lip.

“I don’t know what to think,” Al says. “All I know is Madison’s got a lot to explain when she gets back.”

They can all agree on that. Al gets up to go supervise Hayley again, but Alicia grabs onto her sleeve, stopping her from leaving the bed. “Get me up,” Alicia insists. “I’m not spending the rest of the day in bed.”

“Madison said –”

“I don’t care,” Alicia cuts in. “I can lay around on the couch. At least I’ll be around you. But you aren’t shutting me out of whatever’s happening.”

“Madison’s just trying to protect you,” Luci points out. “She couldn’t protect Nick. None of us could. She doesn’t want anything to happen to you, too.”

“That isn’t her call to make,” Alicia says. “She can’t lock me away to try to protect me. I need to know what you know. Please. Help get me to the living room.”

Al sighs, but she grabs the crutches out of the corner of the room and helps Alicia to her feet. They enter the living room to find Hayley seated in the armchair, knees pulled to her chest. The blood has been wiped from her face, washed from her hair. Her shirt has been replaced with one of Madison’s, which is just slightly too big on her. She still looks traumatized, like she hasn’t seen people die before. Alicia doesn’t want to be irritated by that, but she can’t help but to say, “What? Never seen anyone die before?”

Hayley stops staring into space and locks her eyes onto Alicia as she’s lowered onto the couch with Al’s assistance. “Please,” Hayley scoffs. “I see people die all the time, Alicia. I’ve killed people. It’s not about that.”

“Then what’s the big deal?” Alicia asks. “Did he mean that much to you or something?”

“You don’t get it.”

“You’re right. I don’t. So please fill me in.”

“I don’t owe you anything,” Hayley mutters. “I saved your fucking life. The least you can do is mind your own fucking business.”

“Hey!” Al snaps. She’d get up in Hayley’s face if Alicia didn’t grab a fistful of the back of her shirt and force her to stay close. “It’s not our fault that we were dragged into your business. We don’t even want to be Pioneers. If we could be anywhere else right now, believe me, we’d be on the other fucking end of the country.”

“We know.”

“Who the fuck is we?” Al questions.

Hayley doesn’t need to say, “Don’t be stupid,” when it’s written all over her face, but she says it anyway. “Ginny. Todd. Fucking everyone. Why do you think Ginny hasn’t left the Lanes? She knows you’re trouble.”

“Then why take us in?” Alicia asks.

“She needs you.”

“She killed Morgan,” Luci argues. “Did she think that would go over well when we found out?”

“You weren’t supposed to find out. The rest of your friends don’t know,” Hayley says. “They’re doing just fine out at Westfield and Shoreline. They’ve accepted the situation.”

“And we haven’t?” Alicia questions. “We’re still here, aren’t we? We haven’t tried to run.”

“You’ve been pushing to see Madison since we picked you up at the Gulch,” Hayley retorts. “It’s making Ginny suspicious.”

“How?” Alicia exclaims. “Because I want to see my mother? Especially after I was _shot_.”

“Ginny thought making Madison the head of security would help ease tensions,” Hayley says. She shakes her head. “She fucked up by not letting Madison look for you right away. Madison has never forgiven her for that.”

“And she knows it?” Alicia says. “Ginny knows my mom is, what? Holding a grudge? She’s worried?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what the fuck are you trying to say, Ramsey?” Al sneers. This time, Alicia releases her shirt and lets Al get in Hayley’s space. Hayley calmly meets Al’s eyes.

“Something’s coming,” Hayley says. “And I don’t know what, but I know whatever it is, it isn’t good, and Madison has something to do with it. And you’re going to have to pick a side. Just make sure you choose correctly.”

*

Hayley sits and stares into space for a concerning amount of time. Like their heated conversation never happened, she just goes back to staring absently somewhere off near the kitchen. Al disappears into the guest room to clean her gun while Luci starts to stress bake. Granted, it’s a boxed cake, but the Pioneers have fresh eggs and milk. And if shit is going to go down here, Luci wants cake.

“I still don’t get it,” Alicia says. If Hayley hears her, she doesn’t act like it. “What’s bothering you so much?” Alicia asks. “Was this guy – Lyle – your friend or something?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

Hayley inhales deeply. “I just – I’ve never been able to get used to watching people I love kill someone.”

Alicia falters. On one hand, she kind of feels bad for Hayley. She understands the feeling, though she’s sort of desensitized to it by now. But Hayley probably isn’t. If she’s been shielded by the Pioneers, hidden away from a lot of the violence, then Alicia can understand how watching Ginny kill someone in cold blood could traumatize Hayley.

But on the other hand, Hayley just admitted to loving Ginny, and that doesn’t quite sit right with Alicia. So much so, she can’t stop herself from blurting out, “You love Ginny?”

“Don’t act dumb, Alicia. It doesn’t suit you.”

“I just – I didn’t think –”

“You’re not in the best position to judge me, you know. With what your mom has done.”

The color drains from Alicia’s face. “What are you talking about?” she asks quietly.

“We’ve heard the stories,” Hayley says. The way her voice stays flat, emotionless, spooks Alicia. "We’ve seen it for ourselves, once in a while. She can be every bit as ruthless as Ginny.”

“She’s nothing like Ginny.”

Hayley finally looks over at Alicia. “Don’t be so sure. They’re both convinced their way is correct.”

“My mom doesn’t kill people just because she can. To assert dominance or whatever.”

Hayley blinks. “She told Ginny all about what happened at Broke Jaw Ranch. Told her about the feud those white supremacists had with the Native Americans. And there was that one guy – what’s his name again, Alicia? Troy something?”

Alicia flinches, and the smile that flickers on Hayley’s face lets Alicia know it didn’t go unnoticed. “Otto,” Alicia barely manages to say.

“That’s the one. Madison told Ginny she killed him with a hammer.”

“He led a herd straight to us.”

“Oh, I’m sure he deserved it,” Hayley says. “Madison said she was so angry – she just did it. Point is, Madison played judge, jury, and executioner, too. And you still love her. She’s your family. Why wouldn’t you love her through everything?”

“What’s your point?”

Hayley shrugs. “Some things are out of our control, Alicia. Including who you love.”

“So you watch Ginny kill people – hurt people – for no good reason and you…what? You just stay because you can’t control how you feel?”

“I stay because I have to. And we’ve all done messed up things or allowed messed up things to happen because it benefitted us. So before you sit up on your high horse and judge me, maybe you should look at yourself.”

Hayley stares off into space once more, clamming up just as Al enters the living room with her freshly cleaned gun in hand. Alicia’s hands curl into fists, and she tucks them behind her back, doing her best not to let her body shake. Alicia’s eye twitches, but she refuses to show Hayley – or Al, for that matter – how much talking about Broke Jaw Ranch gets under her skin. She’s been trying desperately to put that chapter of her life behind her, to move forward, to be different –

And she hates that Hayley’s _right_.

That doesn’t mean they have to sit around and let Ginny dictate their lives, though.

“What did I miss?” Al asks, glancing suspiciously between Hayley and Alicia.

A timer dings, and Luci announces, “Cake is done!”

*

“We’re fucked.”

“Don’t be so negative,” Madison hisses. “Just because Lyle is dead –”

“Lyle was supposed to knock out all of the Pioneers’ communications!” Brandon snaps. “If they can talk to each other across settlements, they can warn the others! They can organize against us! No, we’re calling the original plan off. We need to regroup –”

“She’s getting suspicious,” Madison argues. She slams her hand down on Brandon’s kitchen table, but he doesn’t react. “It’s now or never.”

“No. We can’t. We’ll lose for sure.”

“All we need to do is take Paradise Ridge.”

“It won’t matter,” Brandon dismisses. “We won’t capture the others if they can stay in contact. We don’t know who’ll be on our side out there.”

“We’ve already got Todd,” Madison says.

Brandon huffs. “Todd is a _nobody_. The Lanes don’t matter! They’re a startup! Shoreline is what matters. Shoreline is where the people are! And I know Dom won’t stand with us.”

“Dominic hates Ginny,” Madison says. “Why wouldn’t he choose us?”

“Because he’s not an idiot. He knows we won’t win,” Brandon says. “We need to call a meeting –”

“That is the _last_ thing we need to do! We’ll be caught immediately, and Ginny will execute us all before we have a chance to even try to fight.”

Brandon shakes his head in disgust. “Lyle couldn’t just fucking knock out the dish, could he? He had one fucking job.”

“There’s no point in thinking like that. What’s done is done. If you really think our entire plan hinges on the Pioneers having no way to communicate, then I’ll knock out the satellite dish myself.”

“No,” Brandon says. “Absolutely not.”

“Who else can do it?” Madison demands. “Exactly.”

“I’ll do it.”

“You can’t. You’re the only plumber in this stupid place, and we need to keep the water flowing to prevent panic.”

“You’re the only person who can step up,” Brandon retorts. “You’re the only person here with any real leadership abilities, Madison. And if Ginny is suspicious of anyone, she’s suspicious of you. Please. You can’t do this.”

Madison exhales. “You think she’ll post someone to watch over the call center?”

“She might.”

“And what if she posts me there?” Madison questions. “Then I can knock it out on my shift –”

“She’s not an idiot. She’ll figure it out.”

“It’s a risk we have to take.”

“Not yet,” Brandon says. “We can let things cool down. Try again –”

“We can’t wait!”

“Your daughter is here,” Brandon says softly. “I thought you wanted her at the Lanes when this happened.”

Madison shakes her head. “We need to reevaluate some things. She wasn’t supposed to get shot. She was supposed to come straight here anyway.”

“And now she can’t walk. We can take the time to wait, to get Ginny to lower her guard.”

“She won’t. She’s onto us. It’s just a matter of time. The longer we sit around, the worse it’ll get.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” Madison insists. “So we need to draft a new plan, quickly. We’ll know by the morning if Todd succeeded in taking down the Lanes. So I want our dish knocked out before the end of the week.”

*

Al mistakenly assumes the knock at the door is Madison. Hayley doesn’t get why. Madison wouldn’t knock on her own apartment door, but she supposes it’s been a long day. So when Al opens the door, startled to see Ginny on the other side, Hayley has to stop herself from busting out laughing.

“Ginny,” Al says. “I – um.”

“It smells like cake,” Ginny says.

“Yeah, uh, Luci was baking –”

“That explains it,” Ginny says. Her smile is too sweet. Al’s eyes seek out the healing welt on Ginny’s face, feels the anger flare in her chest over what she did to Morgan. But Al keeps her cool. She doesn’t have a choice. Hayley watches with mild amusement as Ginny pushes past Al into the apartment. “Maddie isn’t here, is she?” Ginny asks.

“She’s not back yet.”

“Where’d she go?”

“Hell if I know,” Al snorts. “I don’t ask questions.”

“That’s all you do, Al.”

“I don’t ask _Madison_ questions.”

“Afraid of your girlfriend’s mom?” Ginny taunts.

“Just a little,” Alicia answers for Al. Alicia manages a terse smile. “Would you like some cake? It’s delicious.”

Luci nods her agreement from the kitchen table. She shoves another forkful of cake into her mouth. “Help yourself,” Luci says.

“No, thank you,” Ginny says. “Appreciate the offer.”

“We didn’t poison it,” Al quips.

“Of course not. I’m just not that hungry, that’s all.”

“Right,” Alicia agrees. “Long day.”

Ginny nods solemnly. “I’m just here to collect Dr. Ramsey.”

Hayley startles suddenly. “I didn’t even check Alicia’s leg!” Hayley blurts.

“You probably shouldn’t,” Al says. “You’re still a little – I think you’re still in shock.”

“No, I’m supposed to make sure Alicia’s healing properly.”

“She’ll be fine for one night,” Al says. “Get some rest and come back in the morning.”

“I hate to say it, but Al’s right,” Ginny agrees. “If you have any problems, Alicia, you let me know and we’ll get you some help.”

“I’m fine,” Alicia says. “Don’t worry.”

“See? She’s fine,” Ginny assures Hayley. She holds her hand out. “Come on. I’ll walk you.”

Straight to Ginny’s room, but no one’s brave enough to say that aloud. Nonetheless, Hayley accepts Ginny’s hand and lets Ginny pull her up from the armchair. She shoots a glance Alicia’s way, and their eyes meet briefly. Maybe Hayley got through to Alicia, after all. She doesn’t feel like Alicia’s judging her now.

Maybe it’d be different if Ginny loved her back. Maybe Hayley wouldn’t be so defensive. Maybe she’d just accept the bad with the good. She knows a Ginny that no one else does, but she’s not about to explain herself to Alicia fucking Clark. If Alicia can excuse away Madison’s actions – let alone her own actions – then it shouldn’t really matter what Alicia thinks of her.

“Take care of yourself,” Al calls, and if Hayley wasn’t still recovering from having Lyle’s brains sprayed across her face, she would’ve laughed. Especially at the out of place sincerity seeping into Al’s voice. She expected a more openly sarcastic comment. Hayley just shakes her head, slams the door behind her.

“You okay?” Ginny asks. Hayley impatiently shakes her hand free from Ginny’s. Just because she loves Ginny – it’s very strange to consciously acknowledge it, still – she knows where they stand. She’s not going to cave until Ginny can suck it up and admit it for herself.

“Fine,” Hayley mutters. “Let’s just go.”

Ginny grabs her shoulder, forces her to stop walking. “What’s going on?” Ginny asks.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Something’s happening around here, and I think you know.”

Hayley stares Ginny in the eye and knocks Ginny’s hand off her shoulder. “I don’t know what’s going on,” she says truthfully. “But I think you’re right. I think something’s happening. And if you want my honest opinion, I think you should ask Madison about it.”

“About what, exactly?”

Hayley smirks. “About whatever the fuck Lyle was doing on the roof. If anyone will know, it’s probably Madison.”

“And where _is_ Madison?”

“Well, she’s not in her apartment.” Hayley pauses then touches her fingertips to the side of Ginny’s face. “That bruise is healing nicely.”

Ginny catches Hayley’s hand and uses it to pull her down the hall toward her own apartment. Hayley isn’t surprised that Ginny won’t take a second to acknowledge the welt on her face. She just ignores the things she doesn’t want to deal with. Hayley has to bite her tongue to stop herself from asking why Ginny can’t just confront some of her problems, but she’s not looking to pick a fight. Right now.

“Wait here for me,” Ginny instructs. “I need to find Maddie.”

“What are you going to do?” Hayley asks.

“We’re going to have a nice little chat.”

*

No one sees Madison leaving Brandon’s apartment. Madison heads to the lobby first, sits on the worn out couch, flips through a few magazines. She’s not in the slightest interested in what Brad Pitt’s love life was like before the world ended, but she tries to appear invested as she waits for multiple Pioneers to pass through and spot her here. A few greet her. Even better. She hangs out in the lobby sometimes. Well, normally it’s when her kid isn’t here, but she can just say she needed a few minutes alone.

“Maddie!”

Madison has gotten good at preventing herself from being startled by Ginny. She snaps the magazine shut and drops it back on the coffee table before getting to her feet and turning to face Ginny. Madison manages a thin smile.

“Ginny,” she says. She straightens out her shirt, adjusts her hat. “How can I help you?”

“Let’s cut the shit,” Ginny says. She keeps her voice low, but the lobby is empty. The sun has set. Most of the Pioneers are either in their apartments or at their assigned spot out by the perimeter. “I know you know why Lyle was up on the roof. I know something is going on. And I know you’re part of it.”

Madison blinks. Her expression gives nothing away. She feels calm, and she projects that outwards. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ginny,” she lies. “He was probably just trying to adjust the satellite dish. You know how it gets knocked out of place sometimes. Fucks up our signal.”

“Why would he do that so early in the morning?” Ginny presses.

“I don’t know, ma’am. He didn’t always make the best decisions.”

“I don’t know what game you think you’re playing at,” Ginny says, jabbing her index finger into the center of Madison’s chest, “but you better knock it off real quick.”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ginny’s eyes narrow. “Oh, I think you do, Maddie. If I were you, I’d stop thinking I’m untouchable. No one here is irreplaceable.”

Madison smiles genuinely this time. “You’ve got that right, ma’am,” Madison says. She clears her throat. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“You just watch yourself, Madison Clark,” Ginny warns. “Don’t you forget who saved your ass.”

“Trust me,” Madison replies, “I haven’t.”

“You wouldn’t be here without us!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	23. she's putting us all in danger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're in the home stretch! I really think there's two chapters after this and this journey will be complete! I'm halfway through writing the next chapter, but let's not get too ahead of ourselves. I hope you enjoy this one!

“She’s playing dumb.”

Hayley sighs. She closes her eyes, turns and lets the warm water splash off her face. She still doesn’t feel clean, still feels like she’s covered in blood and brain matter. She’s gotten too used to being clean since she joined the Pioneers, way back. Ginny’s only a few feet away, just on the other side of the shower curtain, and it’s her fault Hayley feels dirty, like she can’t scrub all the blood away.

“And that surprises you?” Hayley questions.

“No,” Ginny admits. She crosses her arms over her chest and leans back against the countertop. “But Maddie really is a brick wall. She gave nothing away.”

“Then maybe you’re just being paranoid.”

“Please. I know Maddie is lying to me. She knows something.”

Hayley grunts. Ginny’s right. This most likely isn’t paranoia. There have been whispers. People have fallen silent when Ginny enters rooms. And it’s not the kind of silence that arises just because it’s Ginny. It’s sudden silence, the kind that happens when they’re afraid of being caught doing something wrong. The kind of silence that’s followed by awkward throat clearing and strained smiles before a new conversation starts.

“I don’t know what you want me to do about it,” Hayley replies. “Alicia clearly knows nothing. And Alicia and her friends haven’t been here long enough to learn much of anything from the other Pioneers. And you have no actual proof, so you can’t really do much about Madison.”

“Sure I could.”

“You can’t just keep killing people!” Hayley blurts. “It only makes everything worse.”

Ginny pauses. “So this is still about Lyle.”

“Of course it’s about Lyle! And it’s about Bolton and Janis and Tom! And Morgan. Everyone you’ve killed personally or had someone else kill. I’m tired of it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You fucking aren’t,” Hayley scoffs. “Now can I just – can I shower in peace, for like two minutes? I still feel like I’m covered in Lyle’s fucking brains.”

Hayley hears Ginny exhale. “I’ll give you some space.”

Hayley yanks the curtain back enough to stick her head out and glare at Ginny. “Can you at least acknowledge that you shouldn’t have killed Lyle like that?”

“He was dead anyway,” Ginny dismisses.

“You didn’t have to blow his brains out while I was right next to him. You did it because he told you to kiss his ass. It made you angry, and you chose not to control your temper.”

“He was dead anyway!”

Hayley shakes her head. “You couldn’t just let me try to help him, could you?”

“He was bleeding out of his fucking ears! Dead! He was fucking dead before you ever got here. Letting you help him would’ve just dragged it out and wasted even more resources.”

Hayley presses her lips together. “Then you shouldn’t have brought me out here,” she says. She yanks the curtain back in place and rinses the soap off herself. “I was only brought here so you could pretend that you were going to help him. You could’ve killed him without having me around. You could’ve killed Morgan without –”

“That was entirely different!”

“You’re right. You didn’t have to kill him. You just wanted to. He got on your nerves, so you killed him. Just admit it, Ginny, and I’ll let it go.”

“Fine,” Ginny says. “I killed Morgan because I wanted to. And I killed Lyle for being a fucking idiot. Are you happy?”

Hayley inhales deeply and rubs soap over her face for the third time. “Not really,” she says.

“What do you want me to do?”

Ginny sounds…desperate. Hayley takes a little bit of satisfaction from that. “I just want you to be fucking honest with yourself. And with me. About everything.” She pauses, rinses the soap off again, and finally shuts the water off. She still doesn’t feel clean, but clearly that feeling isn’t about to go away. “Because I don’t know what game we’re playing, and I don’t like it. I’m just – I’m tired of pretending whatever’s happening between us is nothing. And I’m tired of standing by and watching you make dangerous decisions. So figure your shit out, Ginny, or I’m gone.”

“You can’t –”

“Watch me.”

*

“Took you fucking long enough,” Al exclaims.

“Sorry,” Madison mutters. “I…got caught up.”

“What were you doing?” Alicia asks.

“Ginny came to see me,” Madison answers.

“And?” Alicia prompts.

“She’s suspicious,” Madison says. “Of course. But she doesn’t have anything solid to work with, so there isn’t much she can do.”

“She could massacre you all,” Al points out. “Well, us all, since we’re trapped here now, too.”

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Luci agrees. She pushes the platter still holding half a cake toward Madison. “Cake?”

A confused look passes Madison’s face, but she just shakes her head. “Where’s Hayley?”

“Ginny came and got her,” Al says, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Ginny was here?”

“Yes.”

Something isn’t quite adding up in Madison’s timeline, but she just waves the issue off. “Look, Al and Alicia – you take my room. Luci, you can have the guest room. I’ll sleep out here tonight, just in case we have any more…unpleasant surprises.”

“Madison,” Luci says. “What happened to Wes?”

“He’s got his own room,” Madison dismisses. “Don’t worry about him. He’s fine.”

“He’s not supposed to be here,” Al says. “Ginny was pretty clear on that.”

“Well, Hayley brought him here,” Madison says. “Ginny can take it up with her. It’s none of our concern.”

“He’s our friend,” Alicia counters.

Madison grimaces. “It’s still none of our concern right now. He’s fine. Ginny won’t do anything to him without a reason.”

*

“Why did you bring him out here after I _specifically_ said we were leaving him at the Lanes?”

“You know I don’t like driving between settlements by myself,” Hayley retorts. “Can we do this later?”

“It is later. And something suspicious is going on, and you went against a direct order. You could’ve had anyone else drive you! Even Todd would’ve been a better choice, for fuck’s sake!”

“You’re making this isn’t a big deal when it doesn’t have to be.”

“Someone is trying to overthrow me!” Ginny blurts. “And I know I can’t prove it, but I can _feel_ it.”

“Now you really do sound paranoid,” Hayley says flatly. “Like a true dictator.”

Maybe that’s pushing it too far. Ginny’s face heats up, and Hayley flinches as she watches Ginny attempt to control her temper. Hayley contemplates apologizing, but she doesn’t actually believe Ginny would do anything to harm her. So she waits for Ginny to collect herself.

“You know I do what I have to do to keep us all alive,” Ginny says in a low voice.

Hayley shrugs. “Sure. But you wouldn’t be worried about being overthrown if you really thought your people were happy with what you’re doing.”

“Well, let me just go establish a fucking democratic system! You know we couldn’t make that work! Not at this stage.”

“You don’t need democracy,” Hayley says. “But you don’t need to use the threat of death to control people.”

“And I don’t need you telling me how to run things.”

Hayley sighs. “Then as your friend or whatever we are, my advice is maybe you should start watching your back.”

*

Alicia irrationally worries about Madison sleeping in the living room by herself. Al had done it the night before, not having the heart to try to throw Madison out of her own room after she hadn’t seen her daughter in forever, and nothing happened to Al. And Madison lives here full time. But still, Alicia worries, even if there’s no logical reason why, even though she knows Madison sleeps with her revolver within arm’s reach. Even though Alicia knows Madison can take care of herself, has kept herself alive perhaps against all odds. Alicia just keeps thinking about Ginny sneaking in overnight, executing Madison, and walking off. Or executing them all.

“Tell me it’s crazy to think Ginny’s going to kill us all in our sleep tonight,” Alicia says.

Al, in the middle of changing into something comfortable to sleep in, pauses and laughs. “That’s crazy,” she says. “Ginny wouldn’t execute us in the middle of the night. She’d do it in front of all of Paradise Ridge in broad daylight.”

“Thanks,” Alicia grumbles. “I feel so much better.”

“I knew you would,” Al says, smirking. But then the smirk falls. “You have nothing to worry about,” Al assures her. “Yet.”

“I think my mom is putting herself in danger.”

“She’s putting us all in danger,” Al corrects.

“I don’t know why she can’t just butt out of other people’s affairs.”

Al pulls her sweatpants up and shrugs. “This doesn’t count as _other people’s affairs_ , Alicia. She’s been living here for a while. Technically, these are her affairs.”

Alicia exhales as Al climbs into the other side of the bed. “The stadium wasn’t perfect, but it was the best we’ve done so far,” Alicia says. “At least with my mom in charge, she had no one to go up against.”

Al blinks. “So…what? You want to swap Ginny for Madison?”

“I mean, you have to admit, it would be better that way.”

Al scoffs. “For you, maybe. She’s your mother. And whatever shit you may have between you two can easily be pushed aside whenever the dead or other people present themselves as a threat, because you’re family and you’ll protect each other and just deal with the other shit later. But at least tell me that you can see how the other Pioneers might not be so willing to accept Madison in Ginny’s place.”

After a moment, Alicia mutters, “Yeah, I guess.”

“If there’s really a bunch of Pioneers that are unhappy with Ginny, do you really think they all want another absolute leader after she’s brought down?”

“My mom wouldn’t be as harsh.”

“They don’t know that with any certainty. And even you can’t guarantee that’s true. I’ve seen what Madison is willing to do. I know what she’s capable of.”

Alicia tries not to think about how Madison almost killed Al, once upon a time, before Alicia even knew Al existed. “Then what are we going to do?” Alicia asks.

“We are going to do _nothing_ ,” Al answers. She pulls the sheets up to her neck and takes a moment to get comfortable. “We’re going to do what Madison said and stay out of the way. This isn’t our business.”

“Since when have you ever cared if something was your business?”

“Since my actions can now have consequences for you,” Al says. “It’s not just my life I’m gambling with anymore. And I won’t purposefully put you in danger.”

“I can take care of myself,” Alicia says.

“When you can walk properly, yeah.”

Alicia inhales deeply then nods. “Okay. Fine,” she concedes.

Al lifts her arm, and Alicia manages to scoot herself close enough to Al to rest her head against Al’s chest. Al’s arm falls around Alicia’s back, and Alicia listens to Al breathe softly. Al falls asleep long before Alicia does. The thought of what might come after Ginny is deposed keeps her brain from shutting down. And that’s assuming something _will_ come after Ginny. Maybe this group – these Reformers – don’t have quite the numbers they’re assuming they have. And maybe Madison’s wrong about Ginny not having proof. Maybe Ginny is merely biding her time.

Maybe they don’t stand a chance against Ginny at all.

*

“Where are you going?”

“Back to _my_ apartment,” Hayley replies. “Now that I’m finally home.”

“You know I had no other choice but to send you to the Lanes with Alicia!”

“You could’ve handed her off to Bolton, but _no_ , you had him executed!”

Ginny scoffs. “You just think living at the Lanes is beneath you.”

“Because it is!” Hayley takes a second to try to calm herself down, hand on the doorknob. “What are we even fighting for? This –” she motions between herself and Ginny, “isn’t even anything. We have no reason to fight.”

“But you still reap the benefits from our arrangement.”

Hayley shakes her head. “The decisions you make are not my fault, and if you’re more favorable toward me because I’ve put up with being jerked around – that isn’t my fault, either.”

“Jerked around?”

“You say you feel nothing,” Hayley accuses, “you try to act like you feel nothing, but I can see right through you. I’m tired of it. And I’m done with this argument. I’ve wasted enough time on this.”

She finally pulls the door open. The apartment she hasn’t seen since before their attack on the Gulch is just down the hall, within her line of sight. Hayley gets two steps out the door before Ginny grabs her by the elbow and stops her. Before Hayley can fire off some scathing comment, Ginny whispers, “Please. Don’t walk away.”

And Hayley caves again.

*

It’s dangerous, what they’re doing, but when the piece of paper slides under the door, Madison jumps up and snatches it. She unfolds it quickly and skims it over, but it’s just a few sentences.

_Contact with the Lanes is gone. Hasn’t been reported to Ginny yet. Will update soon._

Madison smiles to herself. She heads into the kitchen and retrieves her lighter then sets the sheet of paper on fire, holding it over the sink as it burns. It’s just after two in the morning. Madison assumes Todd came through. Thank the fucking lord. Finally, one thing happens in their favor. Losing contact with the Lanes won’t cripple the Pioneers completely, but it’s a good start. Paradise Ridge has started to rely more and more on the Lanes for food, all while the Lanes has been struggling to catch up to the other settlements while barely being given adequate assistance. Ginny expects too much of them. It’s not really surprising Todd jumped ship the second he was presented with an opportunity.

Just as Madison’s returning to her place on the couch, the walkie on the coffee table crackles. “Maddie? You copy?”

Madison picks up the walkie after a few moments and does her best _just woke up_ voice. “Yeah, I copy. What’s up?”

“We’ve got a fucking problem. Get down to the call center.”

Madison expected no less. She leaves a note for Alicia, Luci, and Al then takes off. She meets Ginny and Chet at the call center, expression carefully impassive. “What’s going on?” Madison asks.

“We’ve completely lost connection with the Lanes,” Ginny seethes.

“How?” Madison asks sharply. As if she doesn’t know the answer. Maybe in another life, she’d win an Oscar, because Ginny really puts her acting skills to the test sometimes.

“I have no idea,” Chet says. “As far as I can tell, it isn’t on our end. It has to be them.”

“That’s bullshit,” Ginny snarls. “Lyle was fucking around on the roof yesterday for a reason. He must’ve done something.”

Chet shakes his head. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t find anything. And we can still reach Westfield and Shoreline. But you know I’m no expert.”

“No, our expert is fucking dead,” Ginny spits. “And his replacement is all the way out at Shoreline, and I’m not going to try to reach Dominic at two in the fucking morning to have him send Martina all the way out here.”

“Fuck Dominic,” Madison huffs. “And if Chet thinks it isn’t us, have Dominic send Martina out to the Lanes and figure out what’s going on.”

Ginny ignores Madison. “Keep trying to reach Todd,” she orders Chet. “If you’ve still got nothing, call Dominic first thing in the morning.”

“And what do I tell him?” Chet asks.

Ginny’s eyes lock onto Madison. “Tell him to send Martina to the Lanes.”

*

Maybe it’s a risky move, but Ginny really has no reason to suspect anything is up. Right after sunrise, Madison makes sure to clog the toilet, sending nearly half a roll of toilet paper down it. She ignores the complaints from Alicia, Luci, and Al and directs them to Wes’s apartment. It’s the perfect cover, as far as Madison is concerned. She clears out her apartment, calls Ginny about the plumbing issue, and within ten minutes, Brandon is at her door.

“So?” he says.

“So I actually did clog the toilet and need you to fix it,” Madison says sheepishly. “What? Don’t give me that look. I thought Ginny might come investigate, and I didn’t want to be caught in a lie.”

Brandon shakes his head but follows Madison to the bathroom. “So? Are you going to fill me in?”

“Todd did it,” Madison says. “We can’t reach the Lanes.”

“That’s the good news,” Brandon says. “But I can tell from your face that there is also bad news.”

“Ginny isn’t an idiot,” Madison says.

“We already knew that.”

“She’s sending Martina to the Lanes. And it may have been my suggestion.”

“ _What_?”

“I thought she wouldn’t listen to me,” Madison hisses. “I was positive she’d bring Martina here! She still doesn’t seem convinced that Lyle didn’t actually accomplish what he was supposed to do.”

“But she’s sending Martina to the Lanes.”

“Yes.”

“Martina will fix that shit in a heartbeat,” Brandon says. “Jesus, Madison, you really fucked up this toilet. Just like you fucked up by telling Ginny to send Martina to the Lanes instead of bringing her here.”

“Shut up. And we don’t know that Martina will figure it out. Todd was supposed to make it look like an accident.”

“ _Supposed_ to. Doesn’t mean he actually accomplished that,” Brandon points out. “Besides, even if they assume it’s an accident, it will be fixed before long if Martina’s taking care of it.”

“That’s why we need to take out our call center,” Madison says. “Soon.”

“When the chance presents itself,” Brandon says sharply.

Madison sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose between her index finger and thumb. “Do you really think Dominic won’t stand with us?”

“I’m almost positive he won’t.”

“Then I think I need to get a message to an old friend.”

*

“How did your mom clog a toilet that badly?” Wes asks.

Alicia shakes her head. “I don’t want to know.”

“Still can’t walk?” Wes questions, motioning toward Alicia’s crutches.

Alicia pauses. “You know, I’m not sure. I haven’t really tried putting weight on it recently.”

“Maybe don’t start now?”

Too late. Alicia slowly leans weight onto her bad leg, testing her limits, but it’s mostly just sore. She lasts a whole two minutes before she takes the pressure off. She’s going to have to start trying to use her leg again eventually. There shouldn’t be anything wrong with it. Hayley made sure of that.

“Can you get Al out of the bathroom please?” Luci complains. “She’s taking forever.”

It’s strange, how this can almost feel normal. Like they’re just four regular people in an apartment. No walking corpses. No power-hungry leaders. Just four people, arguing over a bathroom. Alicia finds the realization almost overwhelming.

The lock pops, and Al steps out of the bathroom, still towel-drying her hair, shirt unbuttoned over just a bra, and before anyone can say anything about it, Al grumbles, “You can’t wait two more fucking minutes?” Then she flashes a smile as Luci rolls her eyes and smacks her on the arm and tells her to button her shirt. Alicia hobbles over to the couch to try to separate herself from the strange feeling that’s starting to set in. The dangerous feeling that this could be their life from now on. No more constant danger. No more frequent violence.

The constant danger and the – frankly, more often than not, necessary – violence are still better alternatives to life with the Pioneers under Ginny. The constant danger here is just disguised, and there’s plenty of violence. But the moral compromise they’d all have to make to continue living here while overlooking the bad –

“You look like you’re thinking about something,” Al comments. She buttons her shirt to her neck, fixes the collar. Al puts her hands on her hips, standing directly in front of Alicia, and Al raises her eyebrows. “Hmm? So are you thinking about something or are you making that face because you’re constipated?”

“No,” Alicia says quickly. “I’m not – I mean – I’m not really thinking about…much. I, um, put some weight on my leg. That’s all.”

Al hums. “And how’d it go?”

“Lasted two minutes,” Alicia mutters. “It’s still sore.”

“It’ll get easier,” Al assures her. “Little bit at a time, sweetheart.”

Alicia smiles. It fades as she says, “I’m just ready for this to be over.” She doesn’t bother to specify what _this_ happens to mean, but Al seems to understand, on some level.

Al presses her lips together, slowly lowers herself to the couch beside Alicia. “Maybe you should be careful what you wish for.”

*

Brandon still hasn’t fixed the toilet when the call comes across the walkie. “Maddie. I need you at the call center. Right now.” Ginny’s voice is too calm, too strained, for the request to be anything good.

“I’ll be back,” Madison tells Brandon. She pauses. “Thanks for fixing my toilet.”

“The toilet you deliberately fucked up? Yeah. You’re welcome,” Brandon replies. He motions toward the walkie at Madison’s hip. “Might want to answer that.”

“I’m on my way,” Madison says into the walkie. She clips it back to her belt and sets her cowboy hat on her head gingerly. “Well, either Martina fixed the problem at the Lanes or she didn’t, right?”

“Who knows what might’ve happened?” Brandon says. “And if Martina has any suspicions, she’s going to report them. You know what she’s like.”

Madison grunts in response. No one’s ever been able to explain to Madison why Martina has been consistently loyal to Ginny, so Madison assumes it has something to do with however Martina joined the Pioneers. Maybe they picked her up off the side of the road, half-dead, like they did with Madison, and maybe Martina had the sense to act more grateful than Madison ever has.

And Madison hates to think all of this would’ve been easier if she’d never come across Alicia again in the first place. Once she’d given up the hope that the Pioneers were good, she’d started to hope she’d find her children once the Pioneers were gone. And now that Ginny’s becoming more and more suspicious about everything, it’s getting harder and harder for Madison to pretend that everything is normal.

“Ginny!” Madison shouts once she’s within view. “What’s the problem?”

Ginny waits for Madison to get closer, and Madison’s eyes shift over to Chet. Seems like he’s always around now. Chet has never been the smartest Pioneer, and Madison’s almost certain he’s kept around as a show of force. He’s almost like Todd, as far as sheer muscle goes, but without any of Todd’s intelligence. Madison resists the urge to ask what Chet’s doing here. Like he’s going to know anything about their communications system. If anything, he might as well just be acting as Ginny’s personal bodyguard.

“The problem has been solved, actually,” Ginny informs. “Martina fixed the connection issue, and we are now fully back in contact with the Lanes.”

Shit. Of course Martina fixed it. Like there was any doubt in the first place. Madison manages a smile and says, “Well, that’s good, so where’s the problem?”

“The problem, Maddie,” Ginny says through her teeth, “is that Martina discovered that there is no way the communication network was knocked out in some random accident. It had to have been deliberate, and the _only_ person at the Lanes who has access to the call center overnight is Todd Allen.”

Madison can’t contain the _oh shit_ look that crosses her face. Ginny’s eyebrows raise, so Madison sputters, “Well, shit.”

“No kidding,” Ginny says. Her eyes narrow. “Did you know anything about this?”

“Anything about _what_?” Madison retorts.

“Come on. I know you aren’t stupid, even if you seem to want to play it that way. Todd deliberately knocked out the communications at the Lanes, and he didn’t do a very good job at covering it up. So did you know anything about that?”

“Of course not!”

Ginny nods, pressing her lips together. “Okay,” she says. She hooks her thumbs through the belt loops of her pants and smiles thinly. “We’ll just see what Todd has to say about it when he arrives.”

Arrives? Madison blinks. “Arrives…here?” she questions.

“No, when he arrives in Disneyland. Yes, when he arrives here! Brant has been placed in charge of the Lanes temporarily while I sort things out with Todd.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Madison says. She clears her throat, reminds herself it’s not time to panic yet. If anything, maybe Ginny will just execute Todd and be done with it. There’s always the chance he won’t sell them out and kill the entire movement before it’s even really achieved anything. There’s no incentive for him to talk; he’s got to know Ginny will kill him regardless of what he does or doesn’t say. “What about Martina?” Madison asks.

“Doesn’t matter,” Ginny dismisses. “But I want you available at a moment’s notice, got it? When Todd gets here – I’m going to need help.”

*

“Brandon?”

“Still fixing your toilet!” he shouts from the bathroom.

“It’s bad,” Madison blurts.

Brandon looks up. “How bad?”

“Really bad.”

“Really bad as in…?”

“Really bad as in Todd is being transferred here _right now_ , and Ginny’s going to try to get him to explain why he knocked out the communications at the Lanes.”

“Shit. That’s really bad.”

“I know,” Madison snaps. “What do we do?”

Brandon shakes his head. “It’s too late to stop Todd from coming here. What we really need to do is cut Paradise Ridge off from everyone else. And we need to do it now.”

“You think Ginny isn’t watching me like a hawk?” Madison hisses. “But someone needs to get a message to Greg at Shoreline. If we remove Dominic, there’s no resistance out there. Most of those people don’t want to be there anyway.”

“Ginny’s had her eye on Greg for months,” Brandon says.

“That’s why I need to get the message to my friend. To pass to Greg,” Madison explains. “But now – it’s too risky. I can’t go to the call center without drawing attention to myself.”

“You’d have to do it overnight,” Brandon says. “When Chet isn’t at the gate.”

“Maybe I can get Ginny to have Chet guard Todd,” Madison muses.

“Which will leave Jack at the gate,” Brandon says.

“And I can sneak into the call center, get a message to my friend, and knock out Paradise Ridge’s entire system,” Madison says.

“In theory.”

“But then we have to act right away,” Madison says.

“We can be ready. Question is: are you?”

Madison’s eyebrows pull together. “What do you mean? I’ve been ready –”

“Your kid and friends are here,” Brandon reminds. “You can’t keep them out of the crossfire.”

“Alicia can’t walk –”

“Exactly. There’s nowhere safe for them to go.”

“We’ll make Paradise Ridge safe. I’ll promise you that.”

*

Todd’s arrival goes unnoticed by most of Paradise Ridge. People either don’t care or don’t see the MRAP pull up, don’t see the men haul Todd out with his hands secured behind his back. But Alicia sees it from Wes’s window and waves everyone over. “That isn’t – that can’t be,” Alicia says, unable to finish her thought.

“That’s Todd,” Wes says.

“And that’s my van,” Al exclaims.

“What’s going on?” Luci questions. “Why would they bring Todd here in handcuffs?”

“This is bad,” Alicia says. “Whatever it is. It can’t be good, right? I mean, they’re acting like they’ve arrested him or something. You don’t think he did something, do you?”

“Maybe,” Al mutters. “But what?”

“Where are they taking him?” Wes asks. He points at where the men are dragging him along, somewhere beyond the stables, out of sight.

“Who cares where they’re taking him,” Al scoffs. “The real question is: what are they going to do with him?”

*

Maybe it’s a little barbaric to have her men chain Todd’s wrists to the wall. But Ginny can’t risk Todd attempting to break himself out. Not that he’d have anywhere to go. The underground bunker that Ginny converted into a single-cell prison has one key, and it never leaves her.

Maddie has never been comfortable down here. Definitely isn’t comfortable now, at Ginny’s side. But Maddie is just like anyone else, if it comes down to it.

Replaceable.

And if Maddie is replaceable, then Todd is more than replaceable. Expendable, maybe is a better word. Ginny smiles to herself, drawing a funny look from Maddie, and a worried one from Todd, who up until this point has been very calm. He’s done nothing but deny the allegations, but why wouldn’t he? He has to protect himself. He knows how things are run here. He’s taken part in it, too, after all. He knows what’s in store for him.

“Here’s the thing, Todd,” Ginny says. “I’m just not understanding _why_ you’d knock out the call center at the Lanes. It just doesn’t make any sense. You need the connection to Paradise Ridge for your little settlement to even survive. So please, explain to me what your reasoning is.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Todd says. He strains against the chains, the metal cuffs digging into his wrists. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Do you believe him?” Ginny asks Maddie.

“I mean…why wouldn’t we?” Maddie questions. “You chose him to lead Imperial Lanes. Why would he turn on us?”

Ginny huffs. _Us_. Right. Like there’s any loyalty from Maddie anymore. But Ginny can play the game, too. “That’s what I want to know,” Ginny says. “What’s in it for you, Todd? Did someone offer you something? There’s still time to save yourself, you know. Jump ship. Because either you’re going to tell me the truth, or I’m going to have to have someone work it out of you. You’d spare yourself a lot of trouble by just telling me what’s going on.”

Todd’s eyes don’t leave Ginny’s face. She can tell he’s being very careful not to look over at Maddie. Interesting. Ginny wonders if she told Maddie to hit him if she would do it. Doesn’t matter. Maddie and Todd are only the start of the real problem. Ginny doesn’t have the solution – yet – but she’ll get there. She’s very good at finding solutions to hard problems. Made a whole career out of it.

“You don’t want to talk, Todd? I don’t know if Chet will be as nice as I’m trying to be. This is your last chance.”

Todd’s eyes widen, but his jaw clenches. Chet is maybe the one Pioneer that Todd couldn’t win a fair fight against. Todd still refuses to speak. Brave man, maybe, but incredibly stupid.

“You know what, Maddie?” Ginny says. “You go get Chet. This is obviously a waste of our time.”

Maddie stands frozen for a few moments before she clears her throat and nods slowly. “Yes, ma’am.”

Ginny could laugh.

*

Maybe Madison won’t have to convince Ginny to post Chet at the bunker after all. He leaves the gate under Jack’s control without question once Madison tells him Ginny needs him at the bunker. And if Ginny has Chet, then what use does she have for Madison? There’ll be no one to catch Madison disappearing into the call center, taking care of business, and kicking things off.

And that’s exactly what she does. Madison locks eyes with Jack, and he gives her a subtle nod before she makes a beeline for the call center. She slips inside unnoticed and locks the door behind her. Madison pulls a chair up in front of the desk and gets the radio ready to go.

“Shoreline, come in,” Madison says. “Does anyone at Shoreline copy?”

She repeats the message three times before she gets an answer. It’s from a gruff voice she doesn’t recognize. Someone newer, maybe. “I copy. Who is this?”

“It’s Madison Clark at Paradise Ridge,” Madison answers. “Head of security. Who am I speaking to?”

There’s a slight pause before the person answers, “Uh, this is John. John Dorie. What can I do for you, Madison?”

“I need you to get Victor Strand on the radio. Right away.”

“Yes, ma’am. Should be just a few minutes.”

The longest four fucking minutes of Madison’s life. She incessantly taps her knuckles against the desk, glancing toward the door every few seconds as if Ginny’s going to burst in and put a bullet in her head. It’s ridiculous. Ginny’s in the bunker with Chet, likely beating the life out of Todd. Madison will save him when she can. Right now, this is more important.

“Tell me it can’t be true,” Victor’s voice says. Madison could cry. “Don’t tell me I’m speaking to Madison Clark.”

“Victor,” Madison breathes.

“John sure summoned me in a hurry,” Victor replies. “Said it sounded urgent. What’s going on?”

“I need you to get a message to someone at Shoreline for me,” Madison says. “Think you can do that?”

“I – yes, of course I _can_. The question is: why should I? What’s this all about, Madison? You know, people like to talk around here.”

Madison chews on her lower lip, weighing the risks of telling him the truth. “We’re going to take Paradise Ridge and Shoreline in one go, Victor.”

“We’re _what_?”

“I need you to find Greg. Okay? Do you know who I’m talking about?”

“Of course.”

“Find Greg and tell him Todd has been compromised. He’s being held here in the bunker. Tell Greg it’s now or never. Tell him to set the plan into motion, but say that the Lanes is a no-go. We’ll have to deal with that later. Got all that?”

“Madison,” Victor says slowly. “Does this have anything to do with the Reformers?”

Shit. Of course he would’ve heard something. It’s Victor, after all. “Yes,” Madison admits. “Did you get all that?”

“I did,” Victor confirms. “And I’ll tell him right away. Madison – what’s your role in all of this?”

“I’ll fill you in later,” Madison promises. “That is, if I’m still alive.”

“Madison, this is absurd.”

“This is the only way now,” Madison interrupts. “You’re not going to be able to reach me again. I’m about to knock out all of Paradise Ridge’s communications, and if Greg follows the plan, Shoreline will be down soon, too. I’ll see you on the other side.”

Madison signs off before Victor has a chance to respond. It’s probably better that way. She steps out of the call center, heart hammering in her throat, and she grabs the ladder Lyle had used in his attempt to cut Paradise Ridge off from the others. It’s now or never.

*

“Maybe you should give it a rest, Alicia.”

“Why?” Alicia replies. She stands at the window, staring out at the rain pouring out of the sky. “Now that I know I can kind of put weight on my leg, I want to keep trying.”

“You don’t want to overdo it,” Al says. “Come on. Come sit down.” Al pats the space on the couch next to her.

“Maybe I want to help Luci,” Alicia argues. She takes a few tentative steps but ends up shuffling toward the kitchen, keeping most of her weight on her good leg.

“We shouldn’t be encouraging Luci’s stress baking,” Al laughs.

“No, we definitely should encourage it,” Wes jumps in. “I’m about to have homemade muffins for the first time in years.”

Alicia hobbles over to the couch, drops heavily down into the space beside Al. Al snaps her book shut and tosses it onto the coffee table, stretching her arm around Alicia’s shoulders. Alicia groans and lifts her bad leg up, resting her foot on the coffee table in front of them.

“Still sore?” Al guesses.

“Yeah, but I have to try,” Alicia says. “We’re running out of time.”

“There’s plenty of time, if you haven’t noticed,” Al says. “We’re prisoners –”

“But we get to eat baked goods in luxury condominiums,” Wes pipes up.

Al rolls her eyes. “We aren’t traditional prisoners, sure, but it’s not like we’re going anywhere.”

“Something’s coming.”

Al shrugs. “Can’t worry about things that haven’t happened yet.”

“When did you get so relaxed about all this?” Alicia asks.

“Probably around the same time Luci started baking again? I don’t know,” Al muses. “We’ve been holed up in this apartment all day while Todd was dragged in like he’d committed a crime. Madison busted the toilet then disappeared. I’ve had a lot of time to think today.”

“And you reached the conclusion that we should just stop worrying?” Alicia teases.

“I think you’re right,” Al says, suddenly very serious. She squeezes Alicia’s shoulder as a startled look passes Alicia’s face and offers her a gentle smile. “Something’s coming. But we don’t know what. We just know that Madison wants us to stay out of it, and for once, I think we should listen.”

“We can’t let her do this alone,” Alicia says quietly.

“She was going to do it long before we ever got here,” Al points out. “We might mess everything up if we get involved.”

“She might need us.”

“She would tell us if she needed us,” Al counters. Alicia doesn’t have a response for that. Damn it, Al’s right –

The knock at the door is urgent. Whoever it is keeps knocking until Wes manages to get the door unlocked and pulled open. Madison stumbles in, breathing heavily, absolutely drenched. Madison pulls the cowboy hat off her head, flings it off to the right, sending droplets of water flying. Al springs to her feet, but she’s stopped by Alicia grasping onto her wrist. Al helps Alicia stand, and they all stay frozen, waiting for Madison to say or do something. Even Luci has stopped in the middle of mixing the batter.

“Mom, why are you –?” Alicia starts, but she cuts herself off, unsure of what she’s actually trying to ask.

“You need to arm yourselves,” Madison breathes. “Now.”

“What’s happening?” Wes demands.

“There’s a fight coming,” Madison says. “And I don’t want you in the crossfire, but you need to be prepared, just in case the fight comes to you, okay?”

“Where are we supposed to get guns on such short notice?” Al asks.

“The armory,” Madison answers. She digs a key ring out of her pocket and fumbles to select the right one. She holds it up before pressing the entire ring into Al’s palm. “Go now. Take whatever you can, then get the hell out of the way.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Al says before Alicia can protest. “Come on.”

Alicia grabs her crutches, and Luci abandons her efforts at baking. “Wait,” Alicia says. “Mom – what are you going to do?”

“I have to find Brandon,” Madison says. “And then we have to get the signal out. There’s no time to explain. Go now, before Ginny comes up from the bunker.”

Bunker? That’ll have to wait. Al urges Alicia along, and they leave Madison behind in the apartment.

“Where are we even going to go?” Alicia hisses. She’s slowing them all down, even moving at her fastest speed on the crutches. “How are we supposed to get out of the way? We don’t even know –”

“There’s one place we can go,” Al cuts in. “Let’s just do what Madison said first and arm ourselves.”

“And if someone tries to stop us?” Luci questions.

Al scoffs, her fingertips pressing against the trench spike at her hip. “I guess we’ll be taking care of them the messy way.”

*

Brandon meets Madison in the lobby. “Madison! What happened to you?” he exclaims. “Did you fall in the pool?”

“Not the time for jokes,” Madison says. “I got the message to Shoreline. It’s tonight, Brandon. Now or never. We take control, or we die.”

Brandon’s eyes widen. “Shit. What about your kid and your friends?”

“I sent them to the armory,” Madison dismisses. “They’re smart. They’ll be fine. But you and I – we have to get the signal out. There are more of us; maybe this can happen without any bloodshed.”

“Madison, you and I both know that’s not true.”

“I know. But we can still hope.”

“Well,” Brandon says, “we’ll know if it worked at Shoreline by morning, if Greg turns up on time.”

“Yeah, but if we lose here – that won’t matter.”

“We’ll all be dead,” Brandon says.

“We’ll all be dead,” Madison agrees. “So let’s go. No time to waste.”

They rush out of the building into the pouring rain. Hayley Ramsey steps out of the hallway. Her hands tremble as she reaches for the gun holstered to her hip. She checks the magazine, counts her bullets, and jams it back into its holster. So Ginny isn’t quite as paranoid as Hayley had been trying to convince herself. Go figure.

Hayley pulls her hood over her head, forces herself to breathe evenly, and counts to thirty in her head. Then, she runs out into the rain. It’s coming down hard, making it next to impossible to see very far ahead of her. Hayley knows exactly where she’s going. She all but sprints past the stables, ignoring the way the rain soaks through her clothes, through her shoes and socks.

The door’s made of metal. Hayley pulls the gun from her hip and bangs the barrel against the door until a lock clicks, until the door swings open.

“Jesus, Hayley,” Ginny has to shout over the sound of the rain hitting the metal. “What are you doing here?”

“You were right!” Hayley yells. She glances over her shoulder, but no one tailed her. No one’s coming after her. “It’s Madison! And whatever they’ve been planning, it’s happening now.”

“Now?”

“Right now!”

Ginny grabs Hayley’s arm, pulls her down into the bunker. Hayley breathes heavily, flipping the wet hood off her head. The gun’s still clutched in her hand as her eyes fall on Todd, chained to the wall, face beaten into a bloody pulp.

“You have impeccable timing,” Ginny says, voice strained. “Todd here was just telling us _exactly_ what’s about to happen.”

“It’s too late,” Todd says through a mouthful of blood. He rolls his head to the side and spits toward Chet’s boot. “You can’t stop it now.”

Ginny presses her lips together, nods, and takes the gun from Hayley’s hand. Hayley can’t find it in herself to protest. Ginny pulls the trigger, and the bullet tears through Todd’s chest, lodges itself into the wall behind him. He gives a small grunt as blood spreads across his shirt, already stained with the blood that’s been dripping from his face.

“Leave him there,” Ginny commands. She gives Hayley the gun back. “Chet. Gather our forces.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	24. time to get started

Todd reanimates before Hayley and Ginny have left the bunker. He’s perfectly harmless, chained to the wall. The walker strains against the cuffs, snapping its jaw, but it’s promptly ignored.

“Anyone who’s not with us is against us. Shoot them on sight,” Ginny says. She finishes loading her revolver and looks up to meet Hayley’s eyes. “Understand?”

“How the fuck are we supposed to know who’s with us?” Hayley whispers.

“It should be fairly obvious, I would think.”

“I don’t want to kill innocent people.”

Ginny smiles. “Honey, no one’s innocent anymore.” She doesn’t even look when she points the revolver at what used to be Todd. She fires one shot, splatters the walker’s brains against the wall. The body goes limp. Silence fills the bunker. Ginny loads another bullet into the revolver’s cylinder to replace the one she just fired. “Let’s go end this.”

*

“Fuck, what key was it?” Al hisses. She tries a fourth key on the armory door as Luci and Wes act as their lookouts.

“It was a gold one,” Alicia says, peering over Al’s shoulder. “Try that one.”

“Why does your mom have so many fucking keys?” Al grumbles. The key Alicia suggested slides into the lock, and Al breathes a sigh of relief as the key turns. She flings the door open and rushes inside. Alicia hobbles in behind her, followed by Luci and Wes. Al slides her hand along the wall until her palm hits the light switch. She flicks it on, and dim light shimmers overhead, illuminating Paradise Ridge’s extensive armory.

“Oh, what the fuck,” Wes breathes. “This is insane.”

“Lock the door,” Al instructs. Luci does, quickly. “Alicia, start loading magazines. We’re going to take as much as we can.”

“We won’t even make a dent,” Wes points out. His eyes travel along the walls, lined with firearms, blades, grenades – you name it, it’s there.

“We’re not trying to make a dent,” Al says. “We’re trying to have enough bullets on us to keep ourselves alive.”

“We need to hurry,” Luci urges. “Pioneers could show up here at any time. You know this is the first place they’ll come.”

“Where do we go from here?” Wes asks. “Madison just said –”

“The MRAP’s by the gate,” Al cuts in. “We’ll make a run for it. That’s our best shot.”

“Alicia can’t run,” Luci reminds.

“I’ll carry her if I have to,” Al says. “We’ll make it to the van, and we’ll go from there. Madison wants us to stay out of this.” Al pauses, eyes falling on Alicia. Alicia loading magazines with bullets. “I’m going to try to keep us out of this.”

*

“Do it, Madison.”

Madison loads a red flare into the flare gun. She was supposed to fire it from the roof of the armory, but there’s not a chance she’s going there after she sent Alicia that way. Last thing Madison needs is all of Ginny’s Pioneers descending on her daughter. At least this should buy Madison some time. Brandon holds the ladder as Madison climbs up to the roof of the call center for the second time tonight. She fires off the flare, watches it streak across the sky. Every Reformer in Paradise Ridge will know what it means, will know it’s time to step up.

Madison just hopes to God that they do. Otherwise it’s going to be her and Brandon versus Ginny and all the forces Ginny can muster up. And that won’t be close to a fair fight. And the Reformers might already be at a slight disadvantage at Paradise Ridge.

“Come on!” Brandon calls. “Hurry!”

Madison scrambles down the ladder, mind racing. God, they did need more time. She has the plan memorized, sure, but her mind has gone blank. There are too many variables that weren’t accounted for. There are so many ways this can go totally wrong. And all Madison can think about is how Ginny will execute her daughter if they don’t win.

“The stables,” Brandon says, and the plan comes rushing back into Madison’s mind. “Come on!”

*

Alicia ignores the ache in her leg, wishing she’d had the foresight to take some ibuprofen beforehand. She stacks the loaded magazines up, pushes them across the table toward Al. Al grabs a Glock off the wall, jams one of the magazines into it, pulls the slide. Al pushes the Glock toward Alicia, then loads another one for herself, slipping extra magazines into her pockets.

“We’re not going to talk?” Alicia questions. Luci and Wes are busy selecting blades. If there’s a firefight, it’s going to draw walkers, no question about it.

“What’s there to say?” Al asks in return.

“I don’t know,” Alicia admits.

“We can talk when this is all over,” Al says.

“We could die.”

“We didn’t die at Humbug’s Gulch,” Al replies. Their eyes lock. “We were so certain we were dead then. So this time, I’m going to choose to believe we’re going to live.”

“Al,” Alicia says quietly, but she falls silent when Al grins.

“Don’t give me that look,” Al says. “Madison seemed confident that whatever was gonna go down would go her way. I think we’re looking at a fair fight, Alicia.”

“We aren’t supposed to be in the fight,” Alicia says. “Since you decided to listen to my mother.”

“It’d be different if you weren’t injured,” Al says.

“I can handle myself.”

“You can barely stand.”

Alicia grits her teeth. “I’ll do what I have to do.” Alicia finishes loading a shotgun and shoves it into Wes’s chest. “We don’t have many shells,” she warns him. “Take your shots carefully.”

*

A hammer cocks, and Madison comes to a stop dead in her tracks, mere feet away from her horse. Madison slowly turns around and comes face to face with the barrel of Ginny’s revolver.

“I guess this ends here and now, Maddie,” Ginny says. Her eyes flicker over to Brandon, a few feet away, standing frozen in place. “And don’t you even try anything,” Ginny warns. “Or you’ll be wearing Maddie’s brains.”

“Please listen to her,” Madison tells Brandon. Madison’s eyes shift past Ginny, over to where Hayley’s hiding behind her, drenched from the rain, still shivering. She looks young, out of her depths. Madison’s eyes return to Ginny, to the revolver in front of her face. “You don’t have to do this,” Madison blurts. Ginny loves to talk. If Madison can keep her talking long enough –

“I should’ve let you die on the side of the road,” Ginny spits. “You’ve always been more trouble than you were worth. How many people did you really think would stand with you, Maddie? These settlements only function because –”

Madison is so fucking lucky that Ginny doesn’t startle easily. Her finger’s on the trigger. Ginny could’ve blown Madison’s head off if the first gunshot had startled her. The shot is somewhere off in the distance, but it’s too close to have come from anywhere but inside Paradise Ridge. There’s no way of knowing who fired the shot or who was on the receiving end. It’s followed only by the sound of rain splattering against the pavement, off the roof of the stables.

“Hayley, you don’t have to choose her,” Madison says suddenly. Time for a new strategy, if she can’t get to Ginny. “The Pioneers – we don’t have to be like this. We don’t have to live like this. You don’t have to choose Ginny. We can do better.”

Madison finds herself with the barrel of Ginny’s revolver pressed against her temple. She should’ve expected no less by trying to appeal to – well, to whoever Hayley happens to be to Ginny. “I’d stop talking right about now if I were you,” Ginny says through her teeth. Madison can only nod. She looks past Ginny at Hayley once more, but Hayley’s face is as impassive as ever. Hayley refuses to look anywhere near Madison. Maybe Madison has made a grievous miscalculation as far as the doctor is concerned. “Start walking.”

*

The first shot is barely audible from within the armory, but the muted sound is still undeniably a gunshot. Al freezes in the middle of loading her rifle. “Shit,” she says. “Shit! We need to go.”

“Wait,” Luci interjects. She grabs onto Al’s arm, stopping her from pulling the door to the armory open. “What’s our plan?” Luci asks. “We all need to be on the same page.”

“We’re making a run for the van,” Al says. “What more do we need to know?”

“If someone tries to stop us,” Luci says. “What are we going to do?”

Al blinks, looks past Luci over at Alicia. Alicia grimaces. “I assumed our plan was shoot first, ask questions later,” Al admits. “What? Is that a terrible idea?”

“I mean, I don’t really want to kill anyone who doesn’t have anything to do with this,” Luci says.

“There’s no way to tell,” Alicia says flatly.

“I guess we’ll just have to hope that Madison’s friends recognize you as her daughter,” Wes pipes up.

“He’s right,” Al agrees. “Any Reformers should know that you’re Madison’s kid, and they should leave us alone. But look, our main priority is living through this, and if I have to kill a few people to make sure that happens…” Al trails off, shrugging. “I’ll do what I have to do. And I know you’ll all do the same. We can clean up whatever mess we make tomorrow, but first, we have to actually make it to tomorrow.”

Al opens the door. It’s still raining, maybe coming down harder than before. Al and Luci flank Alicia, forced to keep pace with her, while Wes stays behind them, shotgun in his hands. Something’s definitely happening, but it’s hard to tell what. Just looks like a shit ton of chaos to Al, and she wants nothing to do with it. Wants Alicia to have nothing to do with it. This could be their fight, but frankly, Al doesn’t want it to be. She can’t help but to think back to when she tried to sit on the sidelines while Alicia, Strand, and Luci were hunting down the Vultures, when Alicia shot John, almost killed June. Al got dragged into that mess – and it worked out, in the long run, but this –

This is something else.

Right now, they just have to get to the van. They can regroup there, and in the meantime, they’ll be shielded by what’s essentially a tank. Unfortunately, the only reasonable path to the van takes them directly through the center of Paradise Ridge, where shit is starting to go down. That’s the best way Al can think to describe it. The Reformers know who’s with them, but the rest of the Pioneers seem to either be confused as to why they’re having guns pointed at them, or they’re outright hostile, aiming their guns straight back at the Reformers. At least no one seems overly concerned about the four people trying to hurriedly cross the settlement.

And the rain makes it difficult to see, on top of everything else. They just had to choose the night the area gets hit with torrential rain. Al’s clothes have molded to her skin, and there’s water sloshing around in her boots. She figures –

Al hits the ground before she can comprehend what’s happened. Alicia’s narrowly stopped from tripping and suffering the same fate as Al when Luci grabs a fistful of the back of her shirt and steadies her. Wes skids to a stop, sliding on the pavement. Al’s lucky she didn’t smack her head. Maybe her tailbone’s bruised, but there’s no time to worry about that. She scrambles to her feet, looking to the body she tripped over only as a precaution. The bullet hole in the man’s forehead tells Al that there’s no concern about him getting back up. The rain has washed away any traces of blood from the pavement.

Al can’t quite place why the body looks familiar. It takes her a second, but she realizes it’s the young man who showed up at Madison’s apartment early in the morning to tell Madison that Ginny needed her at the call center. The name comes to Al out of nowhere. _Peter_. She doesn’t know him but can’t help but to feel sorry for the poor kid. Al tears her eyes away from the body, looks back to her group.

“Let’s keep going!” Al shouts over the rain.

“Are you okay?” Alicia asks.

“Fine,” Al answers. She grasps onto Alicia’s shoulder, wincing at the pain shooting up her spine from her rough landing.

“I guess we know what the gunshot was for,” Wes says.

“Yeah, but why?” Al questions. “Was he one of Ginny’s people? Was he a Reformer?”

“Who cares?” Wes counters, and well, he has a point. It really makes no difference what side Peter was on. As horrible as it is, it really makes no difference who else dies here, as long as they live, as long as Madison and Wendell and Daniel live. Al can’t help but to think ahead, to think beyond just surviving tonight. She can’t help but to think about reuniting all their friends – Strand, John and June, Sarah, Charlie. Even Skidmark. Al can’t help but to think about a new settlement, one with all of them together. A community.

Something whizzes past Al’s head, and it takes her longer than it should to realize it was a bullet. She only figures it out because she hears it ricochet off the van, some twenty feet ahead of them. Al’s reaction time is normally good, but now, she freezes.

“That’s them!” someone yells. A man. A big man, bigger than Todd, even. He looks familiar, even at a distance through the rain. He’s the guy who’s usually at the gate. “The injured one!” he shouts, pointing out Alicia to the other Pioneers flanking him. “That’s the daughter. Grab her!”

Al doesn’t even have her gun raised by the time Alicia’s crutches hit the ground. Al panics, assumes Alicia’s falling or something – but Alicia raises her Glock and empties the magazine in the direction of the Pioneers, managing to keep herself upright on both legs. Al watches one, two, three Pioneers drop before Alicia’s gun clicks empty, before the Pioneers recover and start to return fire. One Pioneer is stupid enough to charge at them, and one blast from Wes’s shotgun puts him on his ass.

“Run!” Wes bellows. Al grabs Alicia by the arm and drags her along. The van isn’t far. They’ve almost made it. Al has no idea how Alicia’s managing to run alongside them, even while limping heavily. Sheer willpower, maybe.

It occurs to Al in that moment that the van could be locked, and she doesn’t have the keys to it anymore. If they’re locked out, they’re fucked. Wes reaches the back doors before the rest of them, bullets deflecting off the van’s exterior. Thankfully, most of the Pioneers seem to use revolvers rather than semiautomatic rifles, requiring them to reload quite often. And most of them don’t quite have John Dorie’s shooting skills, either. In that way, they’ve gotten lucky.

Al thanks whatever higher power that may exist when Wes pulls the back doors open and disappears into the van. Al all but lifts Alicia up the stairs, and they both collapse in a heap on the nearest seats as Luci slams the doors shut and locks them.

“Jesus Christ,” Wes breathes. “How did we – how are we even alive?”

“I don’t know,” Luci says. She slumps back against the doors and pushes her soaked hair back from her face. “I don’t even – Alicia! Your leg! Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Alicia wheezes. “Just sort of winded.”

Her leg’s bothering her. That much is obvious. Going from not supporting any weight straight to running for her life surely is causing Alicia some pain. She seems determined to stick it out, though. Alicia locks her arms around Al’s neck, holds them together in a strange, half lying down embrace. Al’s careful not to touch or put any weight against Alicia’s bad leg.

“Luci,” Al says. “See if any of my bags are still in here. I might have extra clothing lying around. Maybe some towels.”

“Is there a point in changing?” Wes asks. “If the rain doesn’t stop…”

“We can stay in here,” Al points out. “Wait it out away from that mess. And I don’t want to be lying around in wet clothes all night.”

“They want Alicia,” Luci reminds. “For whatever reason.”

“It’s because my mom started this,” Alicia says flatly. “I’m going to pay for it, too.”

“Not if Madison pulls this off,” Al replies. Luci finds the towels and starts handing them out. “And besides, they can’t get us in here. This van’s built like a tank.”

Alicia blinks, lips pressed together. “I think you said something similar to me, once,” Alicia says. “Right before I blew the door off.”

Al grins. “Yeah, but that was totally different.”

“How?”

“These idiots aren’t you.”

*

Madison just hopes to God that Alicia doesn’t see this go down. Madison has no idea where Alicia is, hopes she’s far away from all the action. The plan fell apart, and Brandon would probably be saying _I told you so_ if they weren’t being marched to their imminent deaths. And once Madison is dead, she won’t be able to protect Alicia from Ginny’s wrath anymore. She’ll be next, unless Shoreline falls faster than any of them anticipated.

Maybe Ginny’s thinking if she executes Madison and Brandon that all this chaos will end. That all the Reformers will put down their guns, fall back into line. Pretend like this never happened and go back to business as usual. Maybe Ginny really is that delusional. Maybe she really thinks there’s a way to salvage her organization. Or maybe she knows what’s happening, and maybe now it’s about vengeance. Maybe she’ll execute everyone she suspects of turning against her. Madison’s mind races, shuffling through all the possibilities as they walk through the rain, hands cuffed behind her back.

Just ahead of them, bodies littering the ground start to twitch, start to get themselves back up. The cluster of Pioneers swiftly takes them down, shots firing rapidly. Ginny stops walking ahead of Madison and Brandon, and slowly, Madison and Brandon come to a stop, too. Madison exchanges a glance with Brandon as Hayley looks to Ginny in confusion. One of the Pioneers peels away from the group and runs over. Of course it’s Chet, revolver still in his hand.

“We found her,” he tells Ginny breathlessly. He points over toward the gate where the MRAP is parked. “They’ve locked themselves in there, ma’am.”

Ginny laughs. “How predictable,” she says. Madison clenches her jaw. “Forget about them for now. Round up the rest of the traitors. Or shoot them. I don’t really care. I’ve got an execution to stage.”

“I guess now’s the perfect time to say I told you so,” Brandon says flatly.

“This isn’t over yet,” Madison insists.

“We’re about to die,” Brandon hisses. “Ginny sounds pretty confident that they’ve outgunned us. It’s over, Madison. At least we tried.”

“Fuck that.”

Madison’s handcuffed. There’s really nothing she can do with her hands behind her back that won’t get her immediately shot dead by Ginny. So she’s stuck glaring at the back of Ginny’s head.

“This rain is awful nasty, isn’t it?” Ginny comments, looking to Hayley. Hayley just nods, hand braced against the handgun at her hip. The _gun_. If Madison could get her hands on that gun –

Right. She’s still handcuffed. But maybe she can make Hayley see reason. Maybe Hayley will release her – and then get killed by Ginny herself? Okay, obviously Madison’s getting desperate, grasping at straws for any possible solution to this predicament. She’s not going to accept her death willingly, but she also doesn’t want to get herself killed in a botched attempt to break free. She needs the perfect opportunity to present itself.

She can only hope that it will.

*

Alicia reloads the Glock. “How many Pioneers did I hit? Three?” she questions.

“Think so,” Al answers.

Alicia grunts. “When did I become such a terrible shot? There were, like, ten Pioneers there. I emptied the gun, and I only hit _three_ Pioneers?”

“They were far away,” Al dismisses. “And your leg is still fucked up, so your balance was off or whatever. Cut yourself some slack.”

“You guys are being way too relaxed about all this,” Wes interrupts. “This shit is crazy.”

“My life has been crazy since all of this started,” Alicia says. “I guess you get used to it after a while.”

“So what are we going to do?” Luci jumps in. “Just…wait it out? Then what? If Ginny wins – we don’t have keys. We can’t just drive off! We’re sitting ducks in here.”

Al shrugs and heads up to the front of the van, peering out the side window. It’s hard to see much of anything through the rain, but there are definitely still people gathered not far from the van. Al can see a few Pioneers dragging unmoving bodies out of the way, piling them close to the gate. She squints, struggling to make out who she might be staring at. She thinks she spots Ginny walking with someone, two people trailing behind them. Maybe in handcuffs. Al can’t be sure.

“What’s going on?” Luci asks.

“I can’t tell,” Al admits. “I think Ginny’s out there. And I think she’s got two people handcuffed. I don’t know. It’s hard to see through the rain.”

Despite Luci’s protest, Alicia gets to her feet and limps up to the front, pushing into Al’s space to try to see out the window with her. “That’s definitely Ginny out there,” Alicia says. “It has to be, because that’s Hayley.”

“How can you be sure?” Al asks.

“Because I can tell. And look at how close they’re standing together. It’s definitely them.”

“So does that mean the Reformers have lost?” Luci demands. “That quickly?”

“Maybe they seriously underestimated Ginny,” Al muses. Alicia drops down into the passenger’s seat, startling Al. “What?” Al says.

“If that’s true, then those people in handcuffs – I bet you one of them is my mom.”

*

Madison’s knees hit the pavement hard. She grimaces but figures she won’t need to worry about her knees once there’s a bullet put in the back of her head. Brandon is shoved to the ground beside Madison. Madison kind of can’t believe Ginny’s going to execute them in the rain, in the _dark_ , with only a handful of loyal Pioneers surrounding them. Ginny usually loves to make a show of deaths. Madison scans the faces of the Pioneers around her. She doesn’t see anyone friendly to their cause.

Maybe they’re all dead.

Shit. If the Reformers here at Paradise Ridge really _are_ all dead, then Alicia’s chance of survival rests entirely on Greg’s ability to take Shoreline.

“Do you have anything to say for yourselves?” Ginny asks from behind Madison. Madison grits her teeth as Ginny adds, “You know, since you’ve just attempted to lead a failed…insurrection? Coup? Whatever term you’d like to use.”

“Has it failed?” Brandon questions.

“Todd is dead,” Ginny announces. “My Pioneers have held Paradise Ridge. And both of you are about to be dead. Seems to me like you’ve failed, Brandon.”

_Keep her talking_.

“How can you be so sure?” Madison asks. “This isn’t just about Paradise Ridge, Virginia.”

“You know I could single-handedly crush every other settlement that revolts.”

Madison laughs at the sheer audacity of the statement. “You might want to check on that one before you sound so certain.”

Ginny won’t leave to check on the other settlements herself. She’s not that stupid. She summons Chet, mutters something about him sending out a message to Westfield and Shoreline. Madison smiles to herself. It shouldn’t be long before Chet reports back that there is no way to communicate with the other settlements. Madison considers the possibility that the Lanes fell without Todd being there to facilitate it. The people at the Lanes were the unhappiest of all the settlements, but Shoreline has the most people, so if Shoreline falls, the Reformers still stand a chance, with or without Madison.

The walkie at Ginny’s belt crackles, and Madison already knows what Chet will say before the words leave his mouth. “The call center is down, ma’am,” Chet informs. “We can’t reach anywhere out of the range of our walkies. Definitely can’t reach Westfield or Shoreline.”

Ginny doesn’t answer him. Madison feels the butt of Ginny’s revolver hit her in the back of the head, and the world goes black.

*

“I can’t just sit here.”

“You can barely walk,” Luci retorts. She grabs Alicia by the shoulders, preventing her from forcing her way out of the back of the van. “This is what they want from us! They want us to go out there! And your mom said –”

“I don’t _care_ what she said! I’m not going to sit here and let Ginny kill her!”

“Then we’ll all die with Madison,” Luci says quietly. She looks to Al and Wes for support at the same time that Alicia does.

“Luci’s right,” Wes says. “We go out there, we die, too.”

“Al,” Alicia pleads. Al inhales deeply, pushes her fingers through her hair, using the water to slick it back from her forehead.

“I promised your mom that I’d –”

“Oh, fuck that!” Alicia cries. “We aren’t really going to do _nothing_ just because she feels like she has to protect me! We have to help her.”

“You’re right,” Al decides. “But you’re going to stay here. I’ll handle this.”

“What? No way,” Alicia argues. “I’m going with you!”

“You can’t walk,” Al says. “Ginny wants _you_ dead, not me –”

“That doesn’t even matter,” Alicia scoffs. “Ginny knows we’re together. She’ll use you as leverage – as bait. She’ll use you to lure me out. If I can’t go out there, neither can you.”

“Then I’ll go,” Wes volunteers.

“Wes, you can’t,” Alicia says weakly.

“I have no attachment to Madison,” he points out. “Ginny thinks I’m friends with you all, but I can just deny it, right? I haven’t known you all that long. I can go out there, pretend I’m on her side, and monitor the situation or whatever. Maybe I can’t stop Ginny, but I can buy you some time.”

“And then what?” Al demands. “You buy some time. What are we going to do with it?”

Wes smiles. “Think of a better plan, hopefully.”

*

“Well I’ll be damned,” Ginny says. She lifts the drenched cowboy hat off her head and pushes her hair back out of her face. The rain’s finally starting to ease up a little. Ginny flings the hat aside, steps around Maddie, lying face down on the pavement – unconscious, but not dead. Not yet. Ginny loves to make a show. And a show she’s going to get, now that someone’s coming out of that van. “You stay here with them,” Ginny orders Hayley and Chet, having just returned from the call center. “If Brandon tries anything, shoot him.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Chet says. Ginny knows Hayley won’t be shooting anybody. The fact that she has a gun on her at all is laughable, considering the events of the last few days. But she did tip Ginny off about the attempted coup, and that – Ginny didn’t quite expect that. Surprise of the year. Maybe she’ll have to rethink her _no feelings_ policy. It was never a very effective policy, anyway.

Much to Ginny’s disappointment, the person leaving the van, steadily walking up to her, is Wes. He’s really of no use to Ginny, at least not right now. Maddie barely knows him. His connections to Alicia, Al, and Luci are weak at best.

“And what can I do for you, Wes?” Ginny asks.

“I’m here to switch sides,” he announces.

“Oh?” Ginny says, eyebrows raising. “Are you now?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m not trying to end up dead.”

“And they just let you walk out of that van alive?” Ginny laughs.

“You know how they are,” Wes says. “They’ve been running around trying to help people. I’ve just been trying to survive. So are you going to shoot me or not?”

Ginny grins. This just gets better and better, doesn’t it? “Alright then,” she says. She’ll have to keep an eye on him, of course. She supposes Alicia could’ve put him up to this. That’s probably the most likely explanation. But maybe he really did just come to his senses and figure out what was best for him. “You’ve made the right choice,” Ginny says.

“Believe me. I know.”

Ginny holds up her hand, stops him from walking past her. Then she holds out her palm. “I’ll take your gun, if you don’t mind.”

Reluctantly, Wes pulls the handgun from his waistband and hands it over. It’s the only weapon Ginny spots on him. She directs him to go stand with Chet, and as she turns back around, she notices Maddie is starting to regain consciousness.

“Oh, perfect,” Ginny says, jamming the handgun she’d taken from Wes into the back of her waistband. “Time to get started.”

*

“She’s sitting back up,” Luci informs.

“They’re waiting us out,” Al says. “I don’t think Ginny will execute Madison while we’re in here.”

“I’m not betting my mom’s life on a hunch of yours,” Alicia says. “No offense.”

“None taken, but Alicia – we don’t have a plan.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wing it.” Alicia pauses, then a smile slowly spreads across her face. “Al. The guns mounted on this van…”

Al’s eyes widen. She rushes over to Alicia, takes her face in her hands, and says, “Alicia, you’re a fucking genius.”

“We shouldn’t have sent Wes out there,” Luci says.

“We aren’t actually going to fire them,” Al says, turning her full attention to Luci. “But at least we stand a chance. Ginny will know we have the ability to gun everyone down.”

“She also knows we won’t do shit while Wes and Madison are out there,” Luci points out. “She knows there’s no point in killing her if we’re also going to end up killing our friends.”

“They just have to get out of the way,” Al argues.

“They’ll call our bluff,” Luci says. “They’ll probably just kill Madison anyway.”

By the time they hear the back doors of the van open, it’s too late.

*

It’s too late to doubt her decision. Directing the conversation to the guns worked perfectly. Alicia limps heavily, all but dragging her injured leg along. From a distance, she wouldn’t be surprised if someone thought she was a walker. Speaking of walkers, she can hear them, just beyond the gates behind her. Gathering, pressing into the metal fence surrounding Paradise Ridge. The sound of Ginny’s laughter pierces through the night air, and she claps her hands together as Alicia approaches.

“Well, this just keeps getting better!” Ginny exclaims. The Pioneers around her are getting antsy, hands touching their guns, but Ginny waves them all off. “Stand down, all,” she says. “You let me handle this.”

Alicia winces but presses forward, determined to reach her mother’s side. Madison still looks a little out of it, not quite fully conscious again yet. Madison can only stay upright on her knees because she’s leaning against Brandon. Ginny steps in front of Madison and Brandon, waiting patiently for Alicia to reach them. Alicia grits her teeth. She’s almost there. She has to remind herself to keep her hands away from the Glock crammed into the back of her waistband, hidden from view by her shirt pulled down over it.

“Well, this is quite a pleasant surprise,” Ginny says. Alicia feels Wes’s eyes on her but refuses to look at him, knowing what she’ll see written all over his face if she does. She lost her mom once. She won’t let that happen again. And if she dies trying –

“Stay away from my mom,” Alicia says.

“Well frankly, Alicia, your mom is a traitor,” Ginny replies. Her voice is strangely calm, even upbeat, for someone whose people have partially turned on her. “And you know what we do with people like her.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Alicia says. “You could throw us outside of the gates. Let us go. We’ll leave Texas –”

“It’s far too late for anything like that,” Ginny says, dangerously quiet.

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” Alicia says. “You can still –” She cuts herself off with a sharp cry as her leg finally buckles beneath her, sending her to the wet pavement. She narrowly catches herself, palms smacking to the ground, hissing as pain sears through her leg.

Ginny doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink as the door to the van slams shut. Alicia can’t look behind her, can’t even think about trying to get off the ground. Her leg won’t let her. She hears someone splashing through puddles, boots hitting the pavement, and her heart drops, because she knows exactly who’s running her way. Alicia lifts her eyes from the ground to watch Ginny, but even if Ginny decided to shoot Al, Alicia wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

Al slides to the ground beside Alicia, seemingly unconcerned about Ginny or the Pioneers that are now pointing guns at her. Ginny gives an uncaring flick of her wrist, and all those guns lower, slowly.

“Are you okay?” Al says, right next to Alicia’s ear. Alicia manages a nod. Al gets her arms under Alicia’s, but Alicia grunts, resisting Al’s efforts to pull her up.

“Don’t,” Alicia murmurs. “I can’t – I won’t be able to stand.”

“You shouldn’t have come out here,” Al whispers.

“You shouldn’t have, either,” Alicia replies. She exhales heavily when she hears more footsteps coming from behind them. “You should’ve told Luci to stay back.”

“I did. Why do you think it took me so long to get here?”

Alicia presses her lips together, tries to will her eyes to stop watering. “I love you,” she breathes.

“I love you, too.”

“Hold your fire,” Ginny calls as Luci reaches Al and Alicia. “Let’s see what they have to say for themselves.”

“Let’s get her up,” Luci says. Together, Al and Luci haul Alicia upright, each taking one of Alicia’s arms around their necks. Alicia leans heavily into Al, unable to support any weight with her bad leg. Alicia finally locks eyes with Madison, and if Al and Luci weren’t holding her up, she would’ve fallen back to the ground. The look on Madison’s face, in Madison’s eyes, is very clear.

_You shouldn’t have come out here._

“I had to do something,” Alicia says to her mother. Ginny’s eyebrows raise, but she doesn’t interrupt Alicia. “I wasn’t going to sit by and lose you again.”

“There’s nothing you could’ve done,” Madison says. “There’s nothing you can do now. Damn it, I just – I wanted you all out of this.”

“Isn’t that sweet?” Ginny interjects. “Chet, I want you to bring all our prisoners out here. It’s time to get this show on the road.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Alicia doesn’t look away from Madison. She feels Luci and Al tighten their holds on her arms. As Ginny’s attention is redirected, Alicia watches Madison mouth something to her. She doesn’t get it the first time. Or the second. The third time, though, she sees the words Madison can’t say aloud.

_There’s still time_.

Time for what? They’ve lost. Alicia can’t stop a confused look from crossing her face. It’s too dangerous to try to ask for any more information. Maybe Madison’s asking her to find a way to stall, to buy more time.

“Set her down,” Ginny commands. Alicia feels Al’s body stiffen. Alicia’s eyes widen as Ginny pulls her revolver from her hip and points it at Al’s head. “I said, set her down. Now.”

“Al,” Alicia says. “Listen to her. Please.”

“You should really listen to your girlfriend, Al,” Ginny agrees. “There’ll be enough people dying tonight as it is. Now set her down then turn around and put your hands on your head.”

Al’s jaw sets, but slowly, Al and Luci lower Alicia back to the ground. Alicia hisses as pain jolts through her leg once more, but it eases up once she’s sitting back on the ground. The revolver stays aimed at Al’s forehead until Al turns her back to Ginny and raises her hands to the back of her head.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Ginny questions. “Cuff her. And Luciana. Wes, too.”

Her Pioneers step up to get the job done then line Al, Luci, and Wes up alongside Madison and Brandon. Alicia’s too stunned to react, and it’s only then that she realizes she still has the Glock in the back of her waistband. It’d be suicide to try to use it. She can’t even guarantee she’ll kill Ginny before one of the other Pioneers kills her. It’s better than being completely unarmed. It gives her some leverage. She watches the Pioneers strip the guns off Al and Luci, toss them out of reach.

“What about Alicia?” Hayley asks. _Hayley_. Alicia completely forgot about her, even though she’s been here the whole time. Alicia stares in disbelief at the doctor, standing alongside Ginny. Alicia had never deluded herself into believing Hayley would be on their side, but still, after days of having her gunshot wound treated by the woman, it kind of stings to see her remain loyal to Ginny.

“No point in cuffing her,” Ginny dismisses. “She clearly can’t stand. Keep an eye on her.”

“Ginny, you’re making a big mistake,” Madison says. “We can talk this out. You can still walk away from this with your life.”

Ginny laughs, loud and hard. “Walk away with _my_ life? God, Maddie, don’t you see? It’s over! You’ve lost. Paradise Ridge is mine.” Ginny holds her arm out, motioning toward where the captured Reformers are being led over by loyal Pioneers. “You see? Your little group has been whittled down to just these ten people. The rest are dead. We’ll have a nice bonfire in the morning. Well, the Pioneers will. You? You’ll be in that bonfire, I’m afraid.”

“You really should stop and talk to me,” Madison insists. “There’s something you’ll want to know before you execute me.”

“You know, at this point, Maddie, I kind of don’t care anymore,” Ginny says. “I kind of just want you dead.”

As Ginny points her revolver at Madison’s head, Madison blurts, “How do you even know there’s anything left beyond Paradise Ridge anymore? Huh?”

Ginny pauses. “I’m sorry?”

“Shoreline. Westfield. The Lanes. You can’t reach any of them for a reason,” Madison says. “How do you know with any certainty that three quarters of your people haven’t turned on you? Your most loyal base of supporters is right here, living alongside you. That’s not a surprise. I guess I should’ve known we’d never take Paradise Ridge on our own.”

“What kind of bullshit are you saying right now?” Ginny laughs. She pulls the hammer back on the revolver. “There’s nothing you can say to me that’ll spare your life, Madison Clark.”

“I’m not trying to spare my life,” Madison says. “You wanna kill me? You go ahead. But it won’t change anything.”

“Mom, don’t!” Alicia cries.

“I love you, Alicia,” Madison says. “Always have, always will.”

“Well, this is very sweet and all,” Ginny says, “but I’m awful sick of you, and I’m ready for this to be over.”

“It’s not over til it’s over,” Madison replies. “And this is far from over.”

Ginny pulls the trigger. Alicia screams, squeezing her eyes shut in the moments before Ginny fires, but the scream dies in Alicia’s throat when she realizes what’s happened. Somehow, Brandon has shoved Madison far enough out of the way to avoid being hit with the bullet. Instead, the bullet tears through Brandon’s neck. He hits the ground, blood spraying from the wound. His body convulses for a minute, as Alicia stares in shock as Madison shakily gets herself off the ground, back to her knees. The side of her face and her shirt are covered in Brandon’s blood. Alicia’s vision is blurred from the tears she thought she was shedding over Madison, and she just barely sees Hayley take a step in Brandon’s direction.

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” Ginny says through her teeth, and Alicia watches Hayley’s body go still, “move toward him. Don’t you _dare_.”

Hayley doesn’t move again, stays glued to Ginny’s side.

“He’s going to get back up,” Al says frantically. She strains against her cuffs, sending a worried look over her shoulder at Brandon’s body. “He’s probably only minutes away from turning.”

“What do you care?” Ginny says flatly. “You’ll be joining him soon enough.” She looks to Hayley in an almost disaffected manner. “What do you think, Dr. Ramsey? You think I should just let Brandon finish the job for me?”

“I think you should stop dragging this out,” Hayley whispers. “If you’re going to kill them, then kill them. Don’t make this into a game.”

“But what does it matter?” Ginny asks. “I’m going to kill them all, and you’re going to leave, aren’t you? You warned me about the coup, sure, but that was to cover your own ass, wasn’t it? Once they’re dead, you’re going to walk away from me.”

Hayley doesn’t respond, and with Ginny’s back mostly turned to Alicia, she takes the chance at scooting herself closer to Al and her mom. She shifts herself as far as she can, dragging herself along as Ginny continues to rant about Hayley leaving. As much as Alicia shouldn’t care about Hayley, she can’t bring herself to try to shoot Ginny from an angle that’ll likely send the bullet straight through Ginny and into Hayley. Besides, they kind of need doctors, and Alicia sort of owes Hayley for keeping her alive.

Alicia ignores the look Al’s sending her, the look that plainly reads _STOP_. And Alicia does stop, as soon as she has a clear shot. She pulls the Glock from her waistband, just as Ginny’s head turns toward her. But as Alicia raises the Glock, Ginny aims her revolver right back at her. At the same time, the other Pioneers around them start pointing their guns straight at Alicia, too.

“Now Alicia, that was a really stupid move, wasn’t it?” Ginny says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I'd share a little detail with you. Every chapter title in this story has been a line pulled from the dialogue of the chapter. That's what I decided to do to name these chapters. I tried to choose a line that embodied the particular chapter. The character that said the chapter title isn't super important, but I did break it down for my own amusement. 8 chapters are from something said by Alicia, 8 are from Al, 1 is from Wes, 1 is from Madison, 1 is from Strand, 3 are from Ginny, and 3 are from Hayley. Just a fun little thing I thought I'd share with you. (Bonus: the next chapter's title comes from something said by Alicia.)
> 
> We're almost there. One more chapter. Thank you all for going on this journey with me. I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!


	25. i love you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've finally reached the end, my friends! I hope you enjoy it!

“No,” Alicia breathes. “It’s not stupid. You don’t care about any of these people around you. Except for maybe Hayley. If I shoot you, you’re dead. It doesn’t matter to you if your people shoot me down afterwards. You’ll be dead, and so will I, and where does that get us?”

“Put the gun down,” Ginny orders.

“Have your people put their guns down,” Alicia growls. “This is between you and me.”

Ginny laughs mirthlessly. “You can’t even _stand_.”

“It’s you and me,” Alicia insists. “Have them put the guns down.”

“And what if I just have them shoot you instead? Hmm?”

“I will make sure I shoot you before I die,” Alicia says. She adjusts her grasp on her Glock, keeping it aimed at Ginny’s chest. “And you know a bullet to the chest is a death sentence. The best doctors on the planet won’t be able to keep you alive.”

Ginny clenches her jaw, finger braced against the trigger, but she barks, “Put your guns down! All of you!”

“But ma’am –” Chet argues.

“You heard me,” Ginny says. “Start killing the walkers outside our gates instead. Chet, you stay with me. We’re going to handle the traitors.”

Alicia didn’t think she’d get this far, honestly. Now she’s in a standoff with Ginny, neither of them lowering their guns, and she doesn’t know what to do next. She’s afraid to look away, to look to her mother for help. But if Madison needed her to buy time, then shit, she’s sure accomplishing that right now.

“I’ll tell you what,” Ginny says. Her expression looks as though every word that leaves her mouth pains her. “You agree to put your gun down, and I’ll let you and Al and Luciana and Wes go free. How’s that sound, Alicia?”

“And my mom,” Alicia says. “And Wendell and Daniel, too.”

“That’s not going to happen. I suggest you think long and hard about this offer, Alicia. Run while you still can with the woman you love and two of your friends.”

Alicia spares a fleeting glance toward Al, Luci, and Wes, toward Madison. She can’t sell her mom and Daniel and Wendell out. Ginny will kill them the second Alicia’s beyond the gates. Alicia’s eyes water just at the thought. She keeps the Glock pointed at Ginny’s chest.

“Do you want to live or not?” Alicia hisses.

“Do you?” Ginny counters. “You better decide quick. Looks like your mom’s buddy over there is getting up.”

Out of her peripheral vision, Alicia can see Brandon’s body twitching. He’s closest to Madison and Al, and there’s no telling which direction he’ll choose to take. It’ll be a hell of an endeavor to try to fend off a walker with their hands behind their backs. Might be next to impossible, since Brandon will be coming up behind them. And once he gets his teeth in Madison or Al –

“Fine,” Alicia says. “I’ll take the deal. Just – kill the walker.”

Ginny smiles. “Chet. Kill the walker.”

One shot fires. Brandon’s body goes still. Madison breathes an audible sigh of relief. Alicia’s hand trembles violently, so much so that if she took a shot at Ginny, she’d probably miss completely.

“Now put the gun down Alicia. And don’t you worry. You know I keep my word.”

Alicia lowers the Glock. “Now do your part,” Alicia says. “Let Al and Luci and Wes go.”

“Chet, take the cuffs off. One wrong move from any of you, I’ll shoot you all dead.”

“We got it,” Al says gruffly. As soon as her cuffs are off, she yanks away from Chet and rushes to Alicia’s side. “What are you doing?” Al murmurs.

“I don’t know,” Alicia admits. Al just nods and starts to haul Alicia back to her feet. Wes and Luci join them, and Wes quickly helps Al to support Alicia’s weight. Gently, Luci takes the Glock from Alicia’s hand.

“You can have your van back,” Ginny decides. She motions to Chet again, and he digs Al’s keys out of his pocket and throws them their way. They clatter to the ground, and Luci scoops them up before inching closer to her group again. “Take it and get the hell out of here. Just remember you’re fair game if I ever come across you again.”

“Mom, I’m sorry,” Alicia blurts. “I love you.”

Madison smiles. “You’re doing the right thing,” she assures Alicia. “I love you, too.”

“We can’t just leave Daniel and Wendell,” Luci says quietly. “And Madison – Alicia, what did you do?”

Alicia can’t find any words. She can’t explain herself. Her eyes flick toward the gate where Pioneers are actively killing walkers, clearing a path. They’ll get to the van, they’ll drive out of here – out of Texas – and that’ll be that. What has she done?

“Let them go,” Ginny yells. “Anyone lays a hand on those four, they answer to me.”

“What happened to not leaving Madison to die?” Wes demands.

“Get in the van,” Al says. She drops her voice. “And we’ll gun the motherfuckers down on our way out.”

Alicia still can’t speak. She lets herself be carried along by Wes and Al, shooting glances back at Madison every few moments. Ginny still hasn’t killed her. Seems unconcerned about her, all of the sudden. She’s saying something to Chet, pointing toward the call center, then turns her attention to Hayley as Chet runs off.

It’s all very surreal to Alicia. They’re really going to just walk away.

But it’s never that simple, is it?

It’s one of the Pioneers near the gates that yells, “Ma’am, we’ve got incoming!”

Alicia is forced to stop when Al and Wes stop, when Luci stops just ahead of them, the van’s keys and the Glock still in her hand. Alicia turns her head just enough to see Ginny run toward the gates, leaving Hayley behind to guard Madison. Alicia focuses on her mother, watches a grin spread across Madison’s face.

“I think I bought us just enough time,” Alicia says. The sound is unmistakable, though a fairly recent sound. It’s the sound of hooves leading the way, and Alicia swears she hears engines revving. Pioneers start screaming in the moments before gunfire drowns everything else out. They all hit the ground instinctively, even though it causes pain to shoot through Alicia’s leg. Better than taking another bullet.

The gunfire doesn’t get anywhere near them, as far as Alicia can tell. When she lifts her head, she’s staring at four horses standing in the middle of Paradise Ridge. Her jaw falls open as she sets eyes on Victor Strand. His hair’s longer than normal, as is his beard, but he’s smiling widely. On the horse beside him is John Dorie, surprisingly missing his typical hat. The men on the other two horses aren’t familiar to Alicia. One’s a scrawny guy with thick glasses sitting atop his nose, and the other guy has his hair pulled back and isn’t wearing a shirt.

Ponytail guy dismounts his horse and immediately pulls a flashy looking handgun from his hip, aims it straight at Ginny.

“Dominic,” Ginny spits.

“Virginia,” he replies. “Lovely to see you this…morning, I suppose?”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Ginny hisses. She doesn’t resist when Dominic goes to take the revolver from her.

“You didn’t get the memo, did you?” he questions. “Shoreline’s not going to take your shit anymore.”

“There was barely any resistance at all,” Strand pipes up. “We left hours ago, and it looks like we’ve arrived just in time.”

*

The first thing Alicia does once she’s back on her crutches it fling them to the ground in order to hug Strand. He chuckles, and Alicia presses her face against his chest, trying not to cry _again_.

“You okay, kid?” Strand asks.

“I will be,” Alicia answers. She hobbles back as Al reaches them, gets Alicia back on her crutches.

“You have impeccable timing,” Al tells Strand.

“I sure do,” Strand boasts. “And I’m more than happy to take all the credit.”

“Please,” John snorts. “Greg over there organized everything, even convinced Dominic to come along. All Strand did was pass on a message, get on a horse, and follow along, same as me.”

“It’s good to see you both again,” Alicia says.

“We’ll have plenty of time to catch up later,” Strand promises. “But we’ve got quite a mess to clean up first.”

Alicia couldn’t agree more. John and Strand both take off to coordinate with Greg, leaving Alicia with Al by the van. Alicia turns her attention to the entrance of the main condominium complex, where all the loyal Pioneers are seated in handcuffs. Madison stands guard over them with Dominic. As far as Alicia knows, no decisions have been made yet. And as far as she can tell, there aren’t even that many people left here at Paradise Ridge as it is. A lot of Reformers were gunned down in the initial firefight, and quite a few Pioneers were gunned down when the cavalry from Shoreline arrived. All in all, there’s about twenty Pioneers handcuffed in front of the building, including Ginny and Hayley. Most of the people still walking about, getting shit together, are from Shoreline.

The first issue is the dead. Mostly the unmoving bodies. Most of the walkers have been killed, but there are bodies scattered everywhere. Efforts have only begun to clear them up, now that the sun’s rising and providing some natural light. Turns out, Todd is dead, but the Lanes were overthrown anyway. Westfield is another story, but Greg and Madison seem confident in their ability to free the people that want out, including the rest of their friends. June, Charlie, and Sarah. Maybe the highlight of the day so far – apart from seeing Ginny in handcuffs, that is – is getting to see Daniel reunite with Skidmark. Strand made sure the cat came along.

“You okay?” Al asks, nudging Alicia’s arm with her elbow.

“Yeah,” Alicia answers. “Yeah, I’m just – I’m glad we didn’t actually have to go through with that deal I made with Ginny.”

Al laughs and runs her fingers through her hair. “Yeah, that was a little ruthless of you, but it’s what Madison would’ve wanted.”

“Well, thank God Strand showed up just in time,” Alicia says. “I don’t know how I’d live with myself if we’d actually left.”

Al just shrugs. “You should really sit down. You’ve had a rough night.”

“We’ve all had a rough night.”

“I’m almost tempted to ask Madison to let Ramsey have a look at you.”

Alicia scoffs. “My leg will be fine. You worry too much.”

“Only about you.”

Alicia’s face heats up, and Al grins. “Shut up,” Alicia mumbles before Al can tease her about it, and Al laughs.

“Let’s go talk to your mom,” Al suggests. “See what she thinks you should do.”

“You already know she’s going to tell me to go lie down.”

“Yeah, but I want to be nosy. Come on.”

*

“We’re no better than them if we execute them all on the spot,” Madison says.

“So?” Dominic says. “They’d do it to us in a heartbeat. It’s only fair, I say.”

“We’ve already lost a lot of people,” Madison points out. “We have to find a way to keep everything running.”

“We can replace ‘em all with people from Shoreline and the Lanes,” Dominic dismisses. “It’s not an issue.”

“What’s it going to look like if I kill them all?” Madison asks in a low voice. “I’m going to look just like Ginny, executing people for stepping out of line. We won, Dominic. We can do this differently.”

He sighs. “Take it up with Greg. He’s the man with the plans, now that Todd’s dead and Lyle’s dead and _Brandon_ is dead.”

Madison presses her lips together. Brandon’s only dead because he saved her, not knowing if he was only buying her a few minutes or if he was buying her a lifetime. But here she is, thanks to his sacrifice. Seems like she’s only alive because of sacrifices other people have made.

“What if we send them all to the Lanes?” Madison questions. “They’ll be easy to contain there.”

“You want to risk giving them a chance to come back and kill us all?” Dominic asks.

“I really do not want to slaughter them all and then ask everyone to follow me.” Madison pauses, sparing a glance over her shoulder. “And I especially don’t want to slaughter all these people in front of my child,” Madison says. “We can do this right.”

“They won’t give up.”

“Then we’ll handle it then, but we should at least give them a chance to be different,” Madison argues. “We can post our people to guard the Lanes, set up a rotation system. The rest of us can move out to Shoreline. We can expand out there, and Westfield’s basically in Shoreline’s backyard. Admit it. It’s not a bad idea.”

“You want to ditch Paradise Ridge altogether?”

“Why not?” Madison says. “We can take the supplies, and Shoreline collects plenty of water. We don’t _need_ to keep Paradise Ridge operational at all.”

“There’s still a lot of work to do at Shoreline,” Dominic says.

“There’s a lot of work to do everywhere,” Madison corrects. “I think we’ve got plenty of hands to make it happen.” Movement off to Madison’s right catches her eye, and she says, “Excuse me, Dominic. I’ll leave you to watch over them.”

To Madison’s surprise, Ginny hasn’t said a word since Dominic slapped handcuffs on her, hours before. Madison knows she has to be fuming, sitting there listening to all of Madison’s plans to tear apart everything she’s built just to rebuild it. Madison had been so sure Ginny would say something when she pitched the idea of electing people to a council in order to oversee the direction they’ll take. Ginny’s eyes about popped out of her head.

“Alicia,” Madison says.

“Mom.”

Madison smiles. “And Al.”

“Madison,” Al says. “Honestly, I can’t believe you pulled this off.”

“I can’t either,” Madison admits. “Mostly because I didn’t pull it off. I was as good as dead before Strand rolled in.”

“You knew Shoreline would fall,” Alicia says. “You knew they were coming here.”

“I knew that’s what we planned,” Madison says. “Wasn’t so sure it was going to happen.”

“That’s why you needed us to buy time,” Alicia guesses.

“I was hoping against all odds that Shoreline would fall quickly and that they’d reach us in time,” Madison says. “Sometimes you get lucky.” Madison pauses, eyes dropping to Alicia’s leg. “You really should get off your feet,” Madison says. “We’ve got this handled here. Head on up. Get some rest. We’ve got plenty of time to sort everything out.”

Alicia grunts. “You sure you don’t want me to stick around and clean up walkers? Maybe run a marathon while I’m at it?”

“You’re funny,” Madison says. She brushes a lock of Alicia’s hair out of her eyes, kisses her on the forehead. “Go rest. I mean it.”

Alicia gives in, nods. Just as Madison turns her back, Alicia calls, “Hey, Mom? I’m sorry about selling you out to Ginny like that.”

Madison looks back and smirks. “Don’t be sorry,” she says. “That was an incredibly risky move, but it paid off, didn’t it?”

“Only because Strand showed up.”

Madison shrugs. “Whatever works. Now seriously, Al, go make Alicia lie down.”

“You heard your mom,” Al teases. “Come on. I could use a nap.”

*

Madison told Alicia to go rest, not to go sleep. Alicia couldn’t sleep if she tried. She lays beside Al in bed, their hands clasped together, resting against Al’s chest. They really haven’t spoken much since they first laid down over an hour ago. Al had checked Alicia’s leg as soon as they’d reached the bedroom, and though Al’s no expert, Alicia’s leg seems to be okay.

“You can sleep, if you want,” Alicia says, breaking the comfortable silence. “Don’t let me keep you up.”

“You aren’t.”

“You don’t have to stay,” Alicia says suddenly. “If you don’t want to be part of –”

“Whoa, slow down,” Al cuts in. She squeezes Alicia’s hand. “I’ll go wherever you go.”

Alicia hesitates. “I meant it. When I told you I love you. I didn’t just say it because I thought I could die. I meant it, but I thought maybe – maybe you only said it because –”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it, whether I was going to die or not.”

Alicia breathes a sigh of relief. “Okay. Good. So we’re good.”

“We’re great.”

*

The first reunion Alicia witnesses – apart from Daniel and Skidmark – ends up being John and June’s after Madison transfers most of Paradise Ridge out to Shoreline a few weeks after the initial coup. Westfield goes along with the transfer of power with little resistance and immediately complies with the request to send June Dorie out to Shoreline. Alicia just happens to be around when the truck rolls up, when June hops out and sprints into John’s arms. It isn’t only June who steps out of the truck, though. Two more doors slam shut, and Sarah and Charlie rush over.

Overall, it’s a happy moment. There are tears of joy, at least until the news about Morgan’s fate breaks. Alicia swipes tears from her own face, unsure what exactly it is that she’s crying over. Al puts her arm around Alicia’s shoulders, and Alicia leans into her, content to just be surrounded by her friends for now. There’s a lot they all need to catch up on. Turns out, Alicia’s gunshot wound isn’t widely known, which she only finds out when June asks her about her limp. Her leg has gotten better over the last few weeks, but Alicia hasn’t shaken the limp, isn’t sure if she will.

“So what’s going to happen to them?” Charlie asks over dinner. They’re in Shoreline’s cafeteria, a room large enough to seat hundreds of people. “The Pioneers who didn’t change sides. What’s Madison going to do?”

“As far as I know, they’re being sent to the Lanes,” Strand answers.

“And then what happens?” Charlie presses.

“I don’t think anyone really knows yet,” John jumps in. “Madison, Dominic, and Greg are still working things out.”

“There’s probably going to be a vote,” Strand says. “Madison’s been bouncing the idea around. She wants us all to vote on what happens to the Pioneers who stayed loyal to Ginny.”

Alicia’s eyes flick over to her right, to where Al’s still eating dinner, mostly undisturbed by the turn of the conversation. Alicia and Al have talked a little about what direction they think the Reformers should take, but they haven’t really settled on a solution. If it really came to a vote, Alicia doesn’t know what she’d choose. She thinks the most likely options that a vote would come down to would probably be between ongoing confinement at the Lanes, exile, or execution.

“We don’t have to worry about that yet,” John assures them.

“Besides, if we vote on it, I’m sure we’ll make the right choice,” Luci adds.

No one dares to ask what the “right choice” would be.

*

Alicia sticks her arm out the van’s window, waves at Daniel sitting at the gate with Charlie and Skidmark, then rolls the window up and turns her attention to Al. “It’s crazy, isn’t it?” Alicia says. “How we can just leave the settlement whenever we want?”

Al laughs. “Man, the Pioneers trapped us for a short while and we’re suddenly surprised by our ability to move around again.”

Alicia grins. “It’s still weird, though, isn’t it? Driving around, searching for supplies or people, all while waking up in a bed at Shoreline.”

Al shrugs, adjusts the collar of her shirt. “Maybe I just adjust to new places faster than you do.”

“Maybe.” Alicia pauses. “I kind of wish my mom would leave Paradise Ridge already.”

“She’s overseeing shit.”

“I know,” Alicia sighs. “It’s just – I don’t know if she’ll move to Shoreline with us even after she’s finished with emptying out Paradise Ridge.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean – maybe she’ll just keep finding excuses to push off moving out here.”

Al shakes her head. “She’ll choose you, Alicia. As soon as she can.”

“Right,” Alicia agrees. “I’m worrying for no reason again, aren’t I?”

Al laughs. “Yes. But I get it. We got our lives back – or at least, we got our freedom back. And it feels like the past few weeks have gone on for years. It’s normal to be a little worried about what our lives are going to be like from here on out.”

Alicia hums. “Our lives? Like…our life _together_?”

“Actually, I meant _our_ as in us and all of our friends, but that too.”

Alicia smirks. “You want a life with me,” she teases.

“Yes,” Al says, without a hint of hesitation or humor. Alicia balks, having expected Al to make a joke or at least grudgingly admit to it.

When Alicia recovers from the initial shock, she asks, “You do?”

“You’re surprised?”

“I would’ve thought that maybe you needed to think about it?”

“I think I’ve done more than enough thinking, Alicia. I’m sure of my decision. We don’t have to rush anything. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

*

It isn’t long before their friends start trying to convince them to hold another wedding. Not so much because they care if Alicia and Al get married. It’s more about the prospect of throwing a giant party with a good reason to justify it.

“Go at your own pace,” June advises Al.

“Don’t let anyone pressure you,” Luci tells Alicia.

“Don’t even _say_ the word _marriage_ when my mom is around,” Alicia warns all their friends at dinner the night before Madison is set to arrive at Shoreline. She stabs a chunk of potato on her plate with more force then necessary then points her fork at Charlie. “I mean it.”

“Afraid of your mom?” Charlie taunts.

“More like afraid Madison will be on board with the idea,” Strand snorts. “I know she’d be thrilled to see her child get married.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Alicia hisses.

“I am,” Strand assures her. “Just make sure you aren’t holding out because of Madison.”

*

Madison moves into Shoreline, and thankfully, all the whispers about a possible wedding stop. For Alicia, it’s all just too much, too soon. She doesn’t even truly feel settled at Shoreline yet.

Settling turns out to be a lengthy process. On Madison’s third official day as a Shoreline resident, she holds the vote. Simply asks what everyone thinks should happen to the loyal Pioneers, to Ginny. She collects their folded sheets of papers, stores them safely until Westfield can be polled. The results don’t come in for two weeks, and by then, Al has finished painting their room a bland shade of gray. At least, Alicia thinks it’s a bland shade, but she didn’t want to paint, so she didn’t choose the color.

Madison gathers Shoreline’s population in the cafeteria, waits for everyone to find a seat. She stands in the middle of the room, hands on her hips, expression unreadable. She waits for the room to go silent, which doesn’t take long at all.

“I was surprised,” Madison announces. “A lot of you had similar ideas about our… _friends_ out at the Lanes. I’m really glad that almost no one condemned them to death. Frankly, we need a lot of them, whether we like them or not. They have indispensable skills – I’m sounding a little like Ginny, but I agree that there’s no reason to slaughter them all.” Madison pauses, looks around the room a bit. “And I’m really glad I don’t have to kill a whole lot of people.”

Alicia fidgets in her seat. Al offers Alicia her hand, and Alicia takes it, tries to let it calm her nerves. They aren’t about to commit mass murder, but it sounds like they aren’t quite setting the former Pioneers free into the world, either.

“We voted to let them stay at the Lanes,” Madison says. “Overwhelmingly, really. Something like eighty five percent. And that’s how I voted, too. They haven’t caused us any problems yet, so we might as well let them be for now.”

“You don’t think they’re regrouping?” Dominic questions. “Plotting against us?”

Madison smiles. “I have no idea,” she admits. “Our guards haven’t reported anything suspicious. And frankly, they don’t have the numbers to do any substantial damage, either to Shoreline or Westfield.”

“Do they even want to be there?” June asks. “Or are we holding them against their will?”

“No one’s expressed a desire to leave,” Madison says. “All of this is still very new, but we’ll take this one step at a time. Maybe some of them will be able to join us without any hard feelings in the future. Maybe some of them will want to leave, do their own thing. Our safety comes first, but they haven’t done anything to threaten us. I’m sure we’ll be revisiting this issue again. But for now, we’re going to let them live their lives and interfere as little as possible.”

“As long as they don’t attack us first,” Dominic pipes up.

“Exactly.”

*

“I kind of hate the carpet in this room,” Alicia muses one night.

Al grunts, having nearly fallen asleep, and mutters, “I just painted the entire room. I’m not ripping up the carpet, too.”

*

Almost a year passes before Alicia sets foot at the Lanes. She parks her truck outside of the fence, kills the engine, and steps out, squinting against the sunlight. She tries to swallow down her nerves. Their security out here isn’t quite what it used to be. They used to have armed guards posted at the gates, and now Shoreline’s permanent residents take shifts out here, blend with the population. They almost act like the Lanes is part of their community. It kind of is. Alicia only relaxes a little when she sees who greets her at the gate.

“Hey,” Al says, flashing a quick grin. She holds her arms out. “Welcome to the Lanes.”

Alicia smiles back, leans up on her toes to kiss Al. It’s only been a couple of days – and Al’s shift is only a week long – but Alicia’s days drag without Al around. “How’s it been?” Alicia asks.

Al shrugs. “Quiet. Except last night was game night, so…there’s nothing to worry about, if that’s what you’re asking. There are no problems. Everyone’s pretty hungover still.”

Alicia nods, chewing on her lower lip. “But there are no hard feelings?”

Al scoffs. “I wouldn’t say that. Ginny’s can still be pretty bitter, but she won’t do anything.”

“Can you believe that?”

“No, not really,” Al admits. “It’s very weird. I guess you’ll see for yourself, since you took a shift.”

“I only took it to be with you.”

“Romantic,” Al jokes. She looks Alicia over. “You look good,” she comments. Alicia had gone through the extra effort of braiding her hair, selected a flannel shirt that might actually belong to Al (Alicia doesn’t remember if it’s her shirt or not) to wear over her tank top.

“Shut up,” Alicia chuckles. “You gonna show me around?”

“You lived here for a few days, you know.”

“Don’t even,” Alicia says, jabbing Al in the side with her index finger. “You know a lot has changed out here. And I spent most of my time here in the infirmary or in our room. Couldn’t really get out much.”

Al smiles, rests her arm around Alicia’s shoulders. “Yeah. Fine. I’ll give you the tour.”

The Lanes has morphed into quite an impressive settlement. And it’s almost completely capable of sustaining itself. They’ve expanded quite a bit. It isn’t until they reach the infirmary, the final stop on the tour, that Alicia lays eyes on Ginny for the first time since Paradise Ridge fell. Seeing Ginny floors Alicia, and she comes to an abrupt stop, startling Al.

“You just going to stare at me?” Ginny questions.

“What are you doing here?” Alicia asks dumbly.

“Well, you see, when I had my settlements taken from me, I was relocated out here,” Ginny says flatly. “So I live here now. Surely you knew that.”

Alicia rolls her eyes. “You haven’t changed at all.”

That isn’t entirely true, even apart from the obvious things like Ginny’s longer hair or her change in wardrobe. Alicia has to stop her jaw from falling open when Ginny smiles at her – a smile that looks pretty damn genuine.

“Took you long enough to get out here,” Ginny says. “I’m surprised you didn’t pick up a shift sooner.”

“Yeah, I was just so eager to come back here,” Alicia deadpans.

Ginny laughs, shakes her head. “You know, this place is the only reason your leg is still working.”

“Actually, I think I owe that to Hayley.”

“And she only had access to medical supplies because of –”

“You two are arguing over stupid shit, you know,” someone cuts in. Alicia looks behind her as Hayley strolls into the infirmary, a smile on her face. “It’s good to see you again,” Hayley tells Alicia.

“Yeah,” Alicia says. “Same to you.”

“Finally picking up a shift?” Hayley questions.

“Yeah. Figured I should pitch in.”

“You’re in luck,” Hayley says. Hayley and Ginny exchange a smile. “Tomorrow’s game night.”

“I thought game night just happened?” Alicia says.

“We have a lot of game nights,” Hayley replies. She motions toward Alicia. “How’s the leg? I mean, you’re standing so it can’t be that bad.”

“I can walk,” Alicia says. “Run. Just can’t seem to get rid of the limp.”

“So I guess you did alright, Doc,” Al says. Al’s hand rests at Alicia’s lower back, and Alicia smiles.

“Can’t complain,” Alicia says. “Too much.”

*

“I would’ve never believed you if you’d told me this would be my life, even just a year ago,” Alicia says.

“You really have a thing for late night conversations,” Al groans. It’s their first night back in their bed at Shoreline after their little stay at the Lanes. “I’m tired, you know.”

“No, you’re hungover from game night.”

“I’m getting too old for this.”

*

Alicia doesn’t take many trips outside of their settlements anymore. She’s lucky that Luci is one of the people who ventures outside of their territory somewhat regularly, and sometime not long after their second full year at Shoreline, Alicia pulls Luci aside.

“I need to ask you for a favor,” Alicia says. “But it also has to be kept quiet.”

Luci’s expression turns serious. “Is everything okay?”

“Better than okay. But I need your help.”

They spend nearly two hours in a jewelry shop in town, picking through rings. Jewelry, frankly, was not high on people’s list of priorities when things went to shit. The shop is practically untouched.

“You know she’ll like whatever you pick,” Luci says.

“I know, but I still want to get it right.”

“Okay, then as both your friend and Al’s friend, I have to say, the ring in your hand is not the one.”

“Right.”

*

It’s a big deal, but Alicia doesn’t want to make it into a big deal. Madison opens the door to her room, and Alicia blurts, “There’s something I have to tell you.”

Madison’s eyebrows raise. “Well, okay then. Come in.”

The door is barely shut before Alicia announces, “I’m going to ask Al to marry me. But I wanted you to know first. Everyone’s going to want to throw a big party to celebrate and –”

Alicia cuts herself off as Madison grins. “That’s great news, Alicia!”

“A giant party?”

“No!” Madison laughs. “Don’t worry about the giant party. Getting married – this is a big deal, Alicia!”

Alicia winces. “I know, but I don’t want it getting out before I can actually ask. Only you and Luci know for now.”

Madison drags Alicia into a hug, and Alicia groans but smiles to herself, hugging her mother back.

“Oh my God, Mom! Don’t cry!”

“I’m sorry!” Madison exclaims, pulling back to wipe the tears from her face. “I’m just – my baby’s growing up.”

Alicia rolls her eyes. “Mom! Just – don’t do this at the wedding, okay?”

“You have to get Al to say yes first.”

*

Al says yes. How could she not?

The news stays secret for all of, like, ten minutes even though Alicia made sure the actual proposal was private. But then Al tells June, and it spreads like wildfire.

Shoreline residents congratulate them for days, and Madison starts planning the reception.

*

The celebration lasts all night. Alicia and Al don’t get back to their room until six in the morning, when the sun has already risen. It also marks the first time anyone from the Lanes has set foot in Shoreline since the fall of the Pioneers, over two years ago.

And everything was perfect.

Alicia collapses onto the bed, exhales, and kicks her heels off.

“No,” Al laughs. She works on removing the tie from around her neck, tosses it onto the dresser. “You don’t get to sleep through our first full day as a married couple.”

“Then we shouldn’t have stayed up all night,” Alicia whines. She presses her face into her pillow, disregarding the fact that she’s smearing makeup all over the pillowcase. Alicia holds her arm out. “Come on. I know you want to sleep, too.”

“I’ve pulled plenty of all-nighters, and so have you! Get up! Enjoy the day,” Al says.

“Just one hour,” Alicia mumbles. “Come on.”

“You should at least take your dress off.”

Alicia rolls onto her back, smirking. “You should take it off for me.”

Al grins. “I thought you were tired.”

“Sleep can wait, but I’m not leaving this bed.”

*

“You actually did it.”

Alicia nearly jumps out of her skin and bangs her head on the SUV’s open trunk. “Ow,” Alicia grumbles. She hauls out the last case of water and slams the trunk shut. Alicia steps back, turns to face Ginny. “I did what?” Alicia questions.

Ginny grabs Alicia’s left hand, holds it up so sunlight glints off the diamond on her finger. “You married your lady.”

“Yeah,” Alicia says, shaking her hand free of Ginny’s grasp. “You were there. With _your_ lady. Now are you going to help me carry these supplies into the Lanes, or do we have to do the whole small talk thing first?”

Ginny smirks. “Don’t bother with the supplies. Chet and Bobby can handle it.”

Alicia shrugs, doesn’t argue. “Everything still good out here?”

Ginny tilts her head to the side. “Wonderful,” she says sincerely. “We’re making shit happen.”

Alicia cracks a smile. “Guess that’s all we can ask for.” She digs the keys to the SUV out of her pocket but hesitates. “You know, I’m surprised you stayed here. I’m surprised – you adapted.”

Ginny blinks. “Of course I did. Once Madison had the upper hand – well, I figured she’d kill us all. It’s what I would’ve done.”

“Exactly. So how are you – why haven’t you tried anything? Or why haven’t you left?” Alicia questions. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

Ginny sighs, crosses her arms over her chest. “I wanted to build something that would last, Alicia. I wanted to make sure this wasn’t the extinction of the human race.”

“But it was about more than just that.”

Ginny shrugs. “You read me correctly, the night Paradise Ridge fell. I want to live. I’ve killed plenty of people – and don’t even give me that judgmental look. You’ve killed people, too, for reasons you thought were right. I did what I thought I had to do to keep myself alive, and I did what I could to try to build a place that would make being alive worth it.”

“We can justify just about anything, can’t we?”

“Maybe,” Ginny concedes. She points over her shoulder, at the Lanes. “I’ve made the Lanes into a fully functional settlement. Far better than it ever was under Todd. Everyone who lives here isn’t just surviving anymore. We’re alive, yes, but we’re happy. So why would I leave? Why would I waste my time trying to undo what Madison has accomplished? It’s working.”

“Even though you have to answer to my mom?”

Ginny smiles. “We can adapt to almost anything, can’t we?”

*

“Are you happy?” Alicia asks.

“I’m sleeping.”

Alicia snickers. “Well, wake up. I want to talk.”

“We talk all day. Why do we have to talk all night, too?” Al grumbles.

“Are you happy?” Alicia repeats.

“Right now? No. You know that I have to be up early.”

“So do I. Just give me five minutes. And I don’t mean are you happy right this second, I mean…overall.”

Al sighs. “I am very happy,” she answers. “Aren’t you? And the only acceptable answer is _yes,_ obviously, because you’re married to me.”

Alicia grins, fumbles to find Al’s hand in the dark. “I just – I was happy at the stadium, and – well, you know how that went. I’m just afraid it won’t last. It never seems to last.”

Al brings Alicia’s hand to her lips. “Our happiness will last,” she assures Alicia. “As long as we have each other.”

*

These nights are Alicia’s favorite. The nights spent sitting in the cafeteria after sunset, the large space lit only by a few lanterns. The nights spent with cards spread out on the table, beers in hand – Sarah and Wendell have gotten pretty good at brewing. The nights Madison takes off to join in on the games, even though she scolds them all for gambling.

“I think you’ve had enough,” Madison always says.

“I had two beers!” Alicia always argues.

“Your mom’s right,” Al says, while Sarah chimes in with, “Oh, give her a break! Have another! Strand’s had five already!”

“Don’t drag me into this,” Strand warns. He pops the cap off another beer, and Luci swiftly takes it out of his hand.

“Thank you,” she says. Luci’s already chugging the beer as Strand complains.

“And you stop agreeing with my mom,” Alicia teases, jabbing her finger into Al’s side. “You’re my wife. Side with me.”

“I would, if you were telling the truth about only having two beers,” Al laughs.

Alicia pouts. “Okay, it was three.”

“You were trying to start your fifth. Don’t even lie.”

“Yeah, well, I’m losing the game! Might as well make this worth my time.”

“You’re with me,” Al replies. “And I’m always worth your time.”

“Get a room!” Sarah jeers. She hands Madison a beer as everyone laughs. There’s always at least one comment along these lines made, when Al or Alicia inevitably say something sappy or dare to steal a kiss.

“Oh, give them a break,” June says.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook, Dr. Dorie,” Sarah replies, wagging her finger at June. “I know you and Mr. Dorie are dying to get back to your room –”

“Sarah, stop harassing everyone,” Wendell cuts in. “You drink too much.”

“ _You_ drink too much, bro,” Sarah retorts. She grins widely. “You know, the kid’s almost old enough to start –”

“No!” Madison interrupts. She snatches the beer meant for Charlie out of Sarah’s hand and passes it off to John. “You shouldn’t even be drinking around her, or gambling, for that matter –”

“Alright, Mom, we get it,” Sarah jokes. “Now sit your ass down and play some poker.”

“Fine!” Madison agrees. She takes the open seat to Alicia’s right. “But you asked for it,” Madison warns. “I’m gonna kick all your asses.”

“We’ll see about that,” Al challenges.

“Kick her ass, Mom,” Alicia says.

“What happened to the _you’re my wife, side with me_ sentiment?” Al laughs.

“I didn’t say anything like that, did I?” Alicia giggles. She leans her head against Al’s shoulder, watches as Madison wins the first hand she plays. “You won’t be able to beat her,” Alicia whispers. “I’m just warning you before you gamble away your wedding ring or something.”

“You should listen to your wife,” Madison pipes up.

“I need another beer,” Al mutters.

“More beers!” Sarah exclaims. “All thanks to my hard work – I mean, Wen’s hard work. You’re all very welcome.”

When the game ends, and they all head to their respective rooms for the night, they’re all still smiling and laughing.

These nights become more and more frequent, and Alicia couldn’t ask for anything more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This marks the end of my longest project yet! After dragging all of you on this long journey with me, I couldn't plan an ending where a bunch of people died. I hope this was worth the wait! Let me know what you think in the comments, and I'll respond as quickly as possible!
> 
> Though this story may be over, I'm still writing, so hopefully I will have something new for you soon. In the meantime, catch me on tumblr at blinkaftermidnight. Thank you all for your support and kind words! It truly means a lot to me.


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